The Life of a Rogue Assassin
by Rogue Auditore
Summary: A new fanfic that follows a young assassin known to few as Rogue and to fewer as Harry James Potter who fights for innocent lives in the shadows. A massive crossover with mainly Assassin's Creed, Harry Potter and Percy Jackson themes. And some small Witcher connections. WRITING GETS BETTER FURTHER IN. Please enjoy. Rated t for language and safety.
1. Chapter 1: Origins

Bane of all

Chapter 1:

Origins

All legends start somewhere whether in a workshop, a hospital, an arena or in this case a small poorly lit alley cloaked in darkness and a strong sense of impending doom. The light rain, commonplace in southern England created streaks of blood tinged water to run into a nearby drain gurgling slightly as if satisfied with the scene around it.

Almost silent whimpers from a hunched figure leaning against a long forgotten lone lamppost penetrated the thick clear country air.

Blood ran from where this figure sat, her injury, childbirth. Many would argue that childbirth was not in fact an injury but a fantastical joy of breathing new life into this world. However this woman, this dirty whimpering woman held no joy at seeing her child for the first time in fact she felt an unmitigated disgust at the child she birthed.

This young mothers name was unknown even to her as she had been abandoned as a baby thus experiencing that was enough to cause her a great burning hate for this child. She was known on the street as Kassie a prostitute holding a long burned out beauty although only at the tender age of twenty. Her original family were wealthy and prestigious with many followers and fearers all of whom looked at this family to be dark, to be pure. Kassie was not. Born to the most ancient and noble house of Black they could not bear to hold a squib in their custody much less claim parentage of her. Such shame it would bring to her and her siblings Regulus and Sirius Black who were obliaviated the moment her powers (or lack of) were revealed.

Indeed from that point on her life was nothing but a black hole of hopes and dreams thrown away (enough to significantly fill the river styx) all leading to a miserable existence of prostitution and alcohol.

Until that was a rich man clad in a clearly expensive Italian suit set his sights upon her and got her pregnant in a drunken state of lust and disgusting disrespect of human decency on his behalf. Kassie was not innocent by any means but this man, this man was an animal who fed on suffering and pain of others. He was a devil dressed as a noble. **(AN: Black flag flashback anyone?)**

He was lord Auditore, aristocrat, noble, cruel, bitter and a sworn Templar loyal to himself and his image only. Fearing only death itself he was proud of his assassin turned templar heritage and would upkeep it with his final breath.

So Naturally hearing from hearing from a greedy british prostitute that he had knocked up in a drunken state he was furious and, trusting no one else he flew to England immediately to prevent the birth of this bastard child that would ruin his reputation for ever.

Both new parents were expecting different things on meeting, the mother a living kiss and promises of wealth beyond imagination and the father, bloodshed and tears. Neither cared about the young child that they had together brought into the world. As such neither thought about the consequences of their decisions on that night.

As the shame of the Black family cried to herself her child stared at her interested and slightly afraid for itself. The boy did not so much as whimper when he was dragged silently from his mother's side nor when he looked into his kidnapper's dark dog eyes or when it slid him into a small corner facing his mothers back hidden behind a bin. That brown stray unknowingly saved a life that would burn so brightly it would scorch the history books forever. That dog was never seen or acknowledged again and we will never know why it saved an innocent baby from certain death.

As that little stray walked into eerie shadows and shades, with bright green inquisitive eyes following its progress another much heavier walk and it's source moved in front of the weeping mother, Lord Giovanni Auditore had come for the child.

Unknowing of his motives the young woman cried with joy happy at the prospect of a new life free of financial burden, "yes my lord," she cried, "you are here to take me and our son to a new life, one of freedom and independence!"

A fire lit behind the lords eyes unnoticed by the rejoicing woman. "Where is the child?" he whispered dangerously. The squib hearing his tone turned to where the child was left onto to find it gone. "I..II don't know." She stammered aware of the rage building on his tanned handsome features. "Where..." the lord hissed slowly, " WHERE IS THE CHILD, BITCH!" he roared in unkindled rage. He could not under any circumstances let that child live. Any circumstances.

Kassie quailed in fear at the man in front of her.

There was not knight in shining armour there was just this man, this monster here to reap her and (not that she cared) her child's soul. "Please I don't know!!" she tried desperately fear gripping her as she tried to escape by sliding back with her hands, wincing at the pain and effort.

"Oh no" ,he snarled stepping in her ankle and grabbing her arm roughly. "You cannot be allowed to leave and help the baby survive," he drew a black revolver from his black coat. "PLEASE!!" screamed twisting without avail to escape his grasp, " FIND THE BOY KILL HIM NOT ME, PLEASE PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU... KILL THE BABY!!" desperately cried trying to save her own life. "KILL THE B..." BANG!!

Cut short by the bullet racing through her brain splashing blood across the walls and bins. There was a limp thud of her body hitting the ground, limbs sprawled across the blood red current running towards the drain. Auditore surveyed the alley and grinned knowing that the child had no chance of survival. "Arrivederci boy." He muttered satisfied with the scene around him.

As he walked away silence reigned supreme, only punctured by the gentle gurgle of the red stained drain and the light patter of rain on concrete.

All that was left alive in that alley was a small baby with big leaf green eyes staring into the glassy eyes of his mother's. Covered in blood and shaking with cold his eyes never left hers or her ruined skull. Alone for the first time. Not the last.


	2. Chapter 2: Family

**IMPORTANT:**

**Hi guys here is a new chapter I hope you all enjoy. Please review and thanks for the positive response I received from my last chapter. It would be great if you could maybe recommend and share this story to get the 'ball rolling'.**

**In other news since this is a 'mega' crossover if you will it is recommended by me that you have read all Harry Potter books (who hasn't) and all Percy Jackson books. A good understanding of assassin's creed would be good and recommend all the games. ( If you can't or are too young at least wiki it to find out the basics (you will love it)) A solid basis of marvel and the arrowverse is good but its not that important yet and won't be for a while . ALL STORYLINE CONCEPTS ASIDE FROM ASSASSIN'S CREED, HARRY POTTER AND PERCY JACKSON WILL BE EXPLAINED VIA STORY. (NON CANON EXPLANATIONS OF THESE 3 WILL BE EXPLAINED.) Enjoy. (If you don't understand anything review me.)**

A young woman with emerald green eyes walked swiftly along a small magical street hiding from the rain and inquisitive stares alike under her hooded black robe. She was a woman on a mission, to find information about the shadier magical Britain and possible information on Lord Voldemort the terror leader of a group of death eaters who had already since their rise several years ago began to corrupt and destroy magical Britain. Hell bent on 'purifying' magical blood and ruling the entire magical world under an iron first.

Truth be told Voldemort aka Tom Riddle couldn't care less about any one cause. No, he hated both no-majs **(AN: how it's spelt in fantastic beasts, means muggles.)** and all wizards with a passion. He hated everyone and tortured his own followers like they were enemies. Once done with no-majs he would move on to wizards and watch the world burn with contempt. Doesn't sound sane? Well that's what decimating your soul does not you, along with you know partial immortality and damning you soul forever.

The green eyed muggle born was, as all others were she was blissfully ignorant of this fact and it's possible consequences for all life. As she struggled down the street eyes downcast, as predicted the whole mission was completely unhelpful and disappointing.

When I say predicted I mean by said young woman to Albus Dumbledore at the latest order meeting. Honestly sometimes she wondered what his agenda exactly was, you couldn't win a war with stunners and honesty!

Pushing that rather foolish man aside in her mind she turned a corner of the dimly lit street and with a look of distaste stepped into a manky green pile of watery sludge that was in fact an Ill kept pond in the middle of the alley. The slight rain caused small ripples in the murky water. Her feet were still dry when she moved to the center of the pond and when she jumped up and slid through the water like it was a thick smoke, appearing in a much cleaner fountain in a village square with thatched houses and narrow streets on all sides. Stepping out with grace (still dry) of the fountain she made her way into a small back alley to apperate away when she heard a loud bang!

Realising that the bang was a gunshot she jumped a foot into the air and turned immediately towards the sound. Whilst running and twisting through narrow streets her good was flying back revealing smooth pale skin and lush red hair that complemented her eyes perfectly.

Splashing through puddles and startling pigeons this woman ran tirelessly wand drawn towards a narrow dimly lit alley that was the epicentre of this entire night. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the grotesque unrecognisable remains what appeared to be a young woman who lay in a wet pool of her own blood.

The woman covered her mouth in horror at the scene before her. It was evident that the perpetrator was long gone and had finished his business, the nature of which was unknown to her. Then through the murky shadows behind a bin she saw a glint of green, moving slowly closer her breath caught in her throat. A child!? What in Merlin's name is a child doing here? And a new born at that still covered in watery blood and wrinkly skin.

Coming to the conclusion that the baby was the child of the dead woman was an easy one for the intelligent lady. Her heart melted at it's adorable little hands and glittering green eyes. She and her husband had desperately tried to bring a child into the world but to no avail as they were both incompatible and adopting during war time would be dangerous.

But this child gave her a chance, a chance at motherhood that she so sorely craved.

The chance for a family. But into the other hand it would be dangerous and trying to protect him from both Voldemort and (in her opinion) the other evil Albus Dumbledore a man she was not sure if he had the best intentions for the people of magical Britain anymore or if he has in it for his own reputation as the leader of the light. He had proven himself to get more of the lights forces killed with his foolish 'hero complex' plots than Voldemort himself. (Refusing to accept vampire or goblin help in exchange for equal rights like everywhere else in the world and going too lightly on the enemy in a war are just some examples)

She didn't want to think about what he would do with any heir to the ancient and noble house of Potter. Who held enormous power both in magical Britain and even more overseas in the United States, Russia, the Middle East and Northern Africa. (All large magical communities significantly more modernised than England which was not that hard in all defence.)

But as she looked into those eyes she knew that any life she could give him, a loving home would be better than any orphanage ever could. But was it worth it? To raise a child with such risks?

What if the worst happened?

Suddenly her head snapped around. Sirens. The police someone must have heard the gunshot. Merlin, James please don't kill me she thought as she learnt forward grabbed the child gently as it looked at her with his soft hands curling around her fingers and despite the danger she smiled warmly at the child she already had fell in love with.

As the sirens neared she took out a miniature broomstick enlarged it and kept into the night sky holding the baby to her chest to keep it warm. **(AN: You can't apperate with children it is shown when Hagrid takes Harry on the bike instead of Dumbles apperating to Privet drive.)** Throughout everything she noticed that not once had the baby so much as whined or cried out, unlike her whiny 2 week old nephew Dudley who she had only seen once and it was a nightmare. The boy (or piglet) was already spoilt and greedy like his piggy father she thought with a disgusted grimace. Well this was her child now, this was now the son of Lily and James Potter.

The flight to Godric's hollow was long and cold for both new mother and child and despite warming after warming charm the baby still shivered and sniffed whilst wrapped in the black cloak. Upon arrival back on land she raced along the beautiful cottage path to the small charming thatched roof cottage that she and her husband lived in.

Normally her and James would live in Potter manor in beautiful rural heart of the English country sides with their own entire valley at their disposal to raise a family in as it was sadly empty after the senior Potters were killed by a death eater raid in Diagon Alley. They gave as good as they got and killed over 30 senior and respected death munchers.

James was sad at their loss but proud of their last stand, together for ever more. But on the insistence of Dumbledore and (strangely) Peter. They had moved to the far less safe Potter cottage which neither spouse were happy about but defying Dumbledore could cause limitless damage to his and their reputation and relationship something that they could not afford in such hard times.

Upon knocking on the large door it was opened immediately by a frantic looking James Potter. "Lils!"he cried pulling her into a hug not noticing the small child he squished in his desperation. "You missed the checkpoint," he whispered frantically " I thought you were..." he trailed off not wanting to think about what could have happened.

"James," Lily started, "I was coming back after finding nothing out when I heard a gunshot, when I found the source I saw a dead woman with a bullet in her head..." she stopped. "And!" James whispered worried for his wife. "And.. I found him." She said gently lifting the baby. James' eyes bulged his messy hair appearing to stick up on end. "A baby?" he said hoarsely. Lily shook her head. And corrected him "No prongsy ... our child." ... Silence.

The head of the Potter family's face split into a huge grin making his wife smile gently back. Kneeling down to his new son he whispered in the babies ear "We're gonna cause hell."

The new Potter family settled in and began to discuss what to do about their newest recruit. Neither parent wanted to reveal that they found the child on the streets as he may be taken away from him. So secretly they called their most trusted friend Sirius Black **(AN: Ironic I know)** to help them keep this secret and protect their baby. The Potters wanted to bring others into the fold but both Lupin, Peter and the Longbottoms were completely loyal to the 'great' Albus Dumbledore. Sirius however was loyal to the Potters and the Potters only.

Sirius connected instantly with the child and soon he was babysitting whenever the Potters were out on a mission. All 4 were happy with one another and became closer by the day. After a few weeks of hiding a child under their roof the Potters began to feel the strain of keeping such a large secret as whenever they had guests (usually the Longbottoms or other marauders) Lily had to do some unspeakable (As Lily was an unspeakable) magic to hide the baby toys and room. And whenever the James and Sirius had to go on hit-wizard missions and Lily had to go to the department of mysteries Lily usually ended up leaving him in his room with padded safe walls and educational toys to help him stay entertained.

She, being an overprotective mother covered him in tracking and monitoring charms and apperated home to feed and change him every couple of hours.

One day a few weeks into being parents the Longbottoms and other marauders were at Longbottom manor with Lily and James. All discussed various subjects with no real importance trying to steer clear of the war; the marauders were discussing a new range of brooms (the nimbus 7) and the women and Frank talking of Alice's pregnancy which she was a week away from the expected time. All of this small talk stopped when Alice gathered up the courage to ask Lily a question they all wanted answered.

"Lily," she started innocently waiting for her Friend's recognition, when Lily nodded hearing question in Alice's voice. Alice continued "Why are you so pale and why have you been so tired recently?" Lily drew in a shaky breath of panic. They couldn't find out, they must not find out!

Her breathing started to quicken and her pulse raced. Until. She almost fell back in delight that was it! A brilliant solution! "Well Alice, you see me and James have been acting strangely because well... I'm pregnant."

Several things happened at once; Alice shrieked in excitement at her friend, Frank ran his hand through his already thinning hair grinning, Remus and Peter stared open mouthed at Lily and James and James and Sirius at first almost died in apprehension and worry then it died down and they wore identical grins once they realised parts of Lily's plan.

After the initial shock the Potters received a large congratulations from the gathered group and numerous questions about gender, expected times and why and how they kept it a secret from 'everyone'.

Lily, ever the intellectual answered them all in order "Firstly," she began, "Its going to be a boy, he is expected in one week like your baby Alice, I managed to cover my bump and most synonyms in public with some very advanced, complicated unspeakable magic and we kept it a secret because it would stop me from going out into fights because you would not let me. ("Damn right." James muttered) And because we did not know if he would even survive so as to not get hopes up we kept it a secret."

Silence.

"CONGRATS!!" screamed Sirius with surprisingly good acting skills and everyone broke into giggles. Soon after the group split up to go their separate ways.

"Well," James sighed plonking down on their sofa "Now what?". Lily grinned "We officially make a baby."

**Hey guys hope you enjoyed. Next chapter should be Lily's plan and the 'birth' of Harry Potter. Please do review, it would go a long way moral wise.**

**THANKS**


	3. Chapter 3: The Potters

**Wassup guys**

**How's it going hope you all enjoy and please review**

**RESPONSES:**

**Msala****I am so honoured that such an accomplished author would like my story, any input from you would be brilliant and to answer your question: I am still sadly going to take**** care of the Potters as some serious character building because Rogue is not a good guy he's more of a anti hero than an innocent Harry Potter. Although he's not dark and won't kill innocents etc. And he will NOT go to the dursleys as that a large portion of wasted time for his experience etc. Thanks for the review please do again!**

**IMPORTANT:****The British wizarding world will take a backseat after the death of Voldemort but it will develop over time and it WILL return. Although we will begin to focus on assassin's creed more. Please give it a chance I think you'll enjoy it.**

To James's upmost disappointment making a baby involved a lot of reading and studying on Lily's behalf. For James it meant lots of long lectures and theorising but for them at the end of the day if it meant getting to live freely with their son it was worth anything.

On the 30th of July Lily woke James with a pillow to the face as their young son looked on and giggled at the sight of his parents happy. Lily told James that the time was almost upon them and that he needed to go to Knockturn alley to get some powdered unicorn horn that has been soaked in grindylow ink for 10 years. The reason for secrecy and use of the black market was that unlike the rest of the world dark magic of any kind was prohibited in Britain as it was 'evil'. So to do this particular once important ritual rules were broken and sometimes completely ignored.

When James returned with the horn he found Lily on her hands and knees in their spare room on the cold stone floor that lay bare after she had ripped up the carpet. She was carefully drawing a perfect 21 cornered pentagram (AN: Or whatever it's called) which was fiddly but important as it was an incredibly powerful number as it was divisible by 9 (33) and 3 and 7 all incredibly powerful in their own right but combined. It should be more than enough to preform the ritual at full strength.

As this was happening an old man with long wispy hair and a white beard that was tucked into his ridiculously colourful robes was strolling down a brightly lit festive alley looking at anyone that passed by from over his half moon spectacles. He was every bit the caring grandfather persona he tried to portray but under the skin he was a manipulative mastermind devious enough to make even the most radical people do his every whim.

The man's name, Albus Dumbledore. Honoured supreme mugwump etc. Etc. Lord of all good and light blah blah.

Said self proclaimed lord continued through the village alley past a snow laden pub named "the three broomsticks" which looked lovely and homely to a slightly dingier alley that split from the main Street. His destination was the rather unsettling pub named the Hogs Head which was decorated with a literal hogs head, grimacing the walking rainbow opened the door with a large groan and found himself hit with a disgusting pungent odour of rats and pipe smoke.

Dumbledore walked into the thick haze and walked steadily to a bar stool opposite a young woman clad in many shawls and had huge bottle cap glasses that makes her look like a large hippy mosquito. Settling himself he leant over and asked the bar keeper, who happened to be his brother Aberforth for a drink of honey mead. Completely ignoring his brother he walked away to serve another customer who happened to be covered in huge pockmarks.

"The types of people he allows in here is disgusting, and he still hasn't forgiven me for Ariana's death!" Dumbledore thought exasperated at his brother's stubborn love of his magically retarded sister.

The woman who he would be interviewing for the divination job looked at him unnervingly with misty eyes, "I sense ... discord between the two of you." she spoke in a clearly drunken slur. Albus mentally rolled his eyes another day, another crackpot he thought bored already.

"Well!" he said clapping his hands, "Lets get this interview started."

Normally an interviewee is nervous but excited about the prospects of a new job. But Trawnley was not exited just nervous she may have been a seer heir but it clearly didn't run in the family, across the duration of the interview Albus grew less and less convinced that she could even read the newspaper never mind decipher the future of the news!

After hearing enough he said a jolly farewell to his brother (no response) and bid Trawnley goodnight saying that he would be in touch (ha), seeing his unimpressed sceptical look she panicked and racked her mind desperately for any answer.

Then as if she was possessed her mind blanked and she slumped unconscious, Dumbledore shot to her aid but as he turned her around he jumped a little as she straight out and her eyes went from misty blue to cloudy green/ grey. Others in the bar turned around to face the stiff saying woman.

Taking in a choked breath she recited:

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives

Dumbledore stepped back in shock before realising what had been said. A prophecy! To defeat Voldemort! How dare they! He was the hero of the wizarding world, he alone should be worshipped as a god among men!

Rage coursed through him before being replaced with cold unfeeling determination, mentally thinking over the prophecy he came to the conclusion that the child must belong to either the Longbottoms or the Potters as both had defied and escaped Voldemort 3 times. Furthermore they were both expecting a child any day now the seven month... Yes he could leak the prophey to Voldemort get him to kill the parents and mark either baby as an equal. Then take the baby to be raised by either the Longbottom matriarch (who would raise the child weak and self conscious, as she was forceful and stubborn) or Lily's bitch no-maj sister who would hate the child making him weak and malleable... Perfect.

Happy with this plan he looked around at the open-mouthed drinkers in the pub, using a mass obliviation charm all soon forgot about what they had heard. When Trawnley regained consciousness he clapped the confused woman on the back, "well my dear seems like you got the job, please arrive at Hogwarts on September the first for your new year." He said jovially to her, noticing that a certain greasy haired figure was trying to escape unnoticed. Walking out of the pub into the dark he silently stunned the eavesdropper in the back, stealthily he dragged the spy who he discovered to be Serverus Snape an old student turned death eater of his.

Quickly he obliviated the last sentences of the prophecy in his mind and sent a very strong compulsion on Snape to tell his lord about what he had heard.

The old man smiled, he had found his leak.

Standing up and brushing himself off the old man turned away back down the street to the three broomsticks for a drink when he Bagan to ponder what he had heard earlier today from Frank Longbottom. When he was told by Frank that Lily Potter was pregnant he was furious how dare they not tell him. He was a Lord of light, the punisher if evil!

He deserved to know everything, it made complete sense that he could not detect it as those damn unspeakables were very advanced at disguises and obscure branches of magic. (Not that he would admit that to anyone) But now he had the chance to scare the wench and get her and her no good husband wiped from the face of the earth... Excellent.

At the same time unaware of the prophecy a young red head was explaining to her two companions her husband and his best friend about the ritual they were about to preform.

"Right, so this is the blood adoption ritual that will make our son, well our son it will make him look like me and James and will combine our blood and DNA with his actual parents DNA making him our child and heir in blood." She told them.

James beamed and jumped up and down whilst Sirius grinned happy for his friends. "Oh and Sirius," she began again getting the formers attention, "Would you do us the honour of being Harry's (AN: Sorry forgot to mention that they named him a few days after he was brought to them by Lily (Harry James Potter))

godfather?"

Sirius stopped grinning and worried the ecstatic James for a second before shouting incoherently in joy and beaming like James. "I would be honoured." He choked out emotion betraying him.

After a few minutes of hugs etc. They brought out Harry and sat him in the centre of the pentagon, James began to burn the unicorn horn that was used for awakening blood magic (thus why its banned as blood magic is 'dark' and therefore 'evil'. Note sarcasm)

Lily and James stood left and right of Harry respectively with Sirius on the opposite prong of the pentagon (or whatever it is with 21 side) Lily with a wave of her wand lit all the candles on the corners of the pentagon.

Magic swirled around the room startling the 3 adults, the only one not upset or shocked by the display of power was the baby who squealed in joy waving it's arms enjoying the feeling of raw energy radiating from the pentagon.

Lily summoned a crystal bowl from the side of the room and drew a small goblin made sacrificial dagger that was heavily laden with rubies and topaz. She had recently received from the vast Potter vaults. Slicing across her hands she then passed the knife to her husband and he copied her.

They then clamped hands wincing over the crystal bowl as the blood dripped into it. Lily the lifted Harry up as he gurgled happily at her, gently she put a small cut on his hand then as he sniffed healed it instantly. The blood dropped into the bowl that James was now holding and Lily then set down Harry after dipping her index finger into the bowl of their mixed blood and placed a drop of blood onto her new sons forehead. Similar to a Hindus 3rd eye.

After doing that the Potter parents crossed their hands over their chests and chanted:

"Adspiceret nostrum puer dileccionis et deuocionis et hoc oro ut eum et nostra dici liceat. Sic fiat semper." (This child, please witness our love and devotion to him and we pray that this will be allowed. So mote it be)

With those words light blazed into the room as the candles shot up a meter causing all shadows to be exiled from the room. You could cut the magic in the air with a knife. To seal the spell Sirius finished off the chant: Testes horum studio et amore parentum pueri possunt recipere ut filio et heredi et in sanguine animae. Sic fiat semper.

(I have witnessed the love and devotion of these parents, may they receive this boy as their son and heir, in all blood and soul. So mote it be.)

With these words the candles melted instantly into puddles and the flames died out into complete blackness. Silence reigned until a loud gasp from James erupted across the room. The reason was that from their new sons eyes was a bright green light that shone like a lighthouse in a stormy day guiding ships home.

As the light died leaving a shocked couple and new godfather Lily switched back on the lights revealing a giggling baby browner blonde tussled hair like James's yet with the slight fringe curl he got from his biological mother.

His eyes glowed a bright green which held a dull glow and inside his irises were shot with a noticeable glowing gold. (as in literally glowing) the only thing unchanged was his Italian skin tone. Which had given way a little because the adoption had de aged him slightly so he appeared as a new-born.

Lily, James and Sirius all had tears in their eyes as they looked at the small baby in front of them. This was it, this was the birth and beginning of Harry James Potter.

**Yay next chapter up soon about life with the potters.****Rogue Auditore**


	4. Chapter 4: The Gifts

**Oh btw the prophecy still counts as a blood adoption is a birth in the magical world. Hope you all enjoy and review. And please look past any spelling mistakes.**

**(Mainly filler chapter and next chapter will have some action. Although it will be shorter than this one.)**

After bathing Harry and cleaning up the ritual James was sitting in the living room with Sirius talking about Harry. "So what about your will James?" questioned Sirius, "won't you need to alter it?" James shook his head "Already done, me and Lils give everything to Harry, titles, money, land etc.. except we do give Remus and Peter a little money each." It was Sirius' turn to nod grateful that he was not benefiting as he already had far to much money as it was.

As Sirius was about to continue a burst of green flames shit from the fire place, both men jumped up in shock swearing avidly. The head into he fire merely laughed in evident joy, "Guys!" the head of Frank Longbottom (who was grinning like a lunatic (more irony)) "come quick our new baby boy has been cleared from the hospital!"

James grinned "That's brilliant when was he born?" Frank continuing the grin replied "Oh yesterday but with information leaks and all we wanted to be sure that we could bring him home safely... how's Lily?"

Puffing up his chest in pride James told him that Lily had just a few hours ago given birth to their son Harry. Grins were exchanged and the exited trio parted with an invitation from Frank to the Potters to come over.

After James ran to Lily and told her the news she dried Harry off and put him in a small blue onzie that he looked positively adorable in. "Wait!" Lily told the two Marauders before they stepped into the fire, "Give me five minutes okay?" she said in realisation. When she received blank looks she retorted, "Do I look like I've just had a child?" she said looking like if they said yes they would be blasted into a greasy spot.

She disappeared into the bathroom for five minutes and when she returned her hair was slightly (though not completely) limp, she had bags under her eyes and she was slightly paler than before. "Perfect. My dear you are perfect." James said as Sirius rolled his eyes and muttered "Suck up." With a playful hit on the back of the head to Sirius, Lily took Harry from her husband and walked calmly into the fire, "Longbottom Manor" she said loudly and proceeded to vanish in green flames. Leaving two men scrambling to keep up.

When Lily appeared through the flames with her husband and friend behind her all eyes turned to look at her and the small green eyed child in her arms. All the adults in the room stared at the small baby with semi glowing gold green eyes and tussled brown hair just like his father's **( AN: His father meaning James as Auditore will just be referred to as the Templar/ biological father.)** but lighter and with a slight curl.

The adults who had children were slightly jealous at the baby as he was truly handsome even at such a young age. Alice, the first to get out of the baby induced coma congratulated the couple and a proud looking Sirius.

Inviting them over the parents introduced their children to one another, a very exited Harry Potter and a rather slow Neville long bottom met and instantly grew bored of one another as Neville began to cry. Which greatly annoyed Harry who even as a baby found this boy, despite being only a day old boring.

As the evening progressed all the couples fretted over one another and their children. Sirius being Sirius grew bored started to play with his godson who was gurgling as he made faces and conjured seesome blocks for Harry to build then knock down. At dusk the fire interrupted the talking couples in a burst of green light, and out from that fire emerged two figures. One a tall man with kindly features and shabby clothing looking tired but exited and another a small man with beady eyes and a twitching nose and lips. Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Both immediately made a beeline towards the Potters after welcoming the hosts.

Remus lupin was a kind man, a man of honour and respect that doted on his freinds like they were family. So naturally as trusting as he was he was a little upset at how he had been kept into the dark about Harry. With his condition he was not at all surprised that other people would distrust him but these people were like his family. It hurt. But upon seeing his friend's child all that hurt melt away, into affection. As he walked over to the boy and crouched beside it the baby turned to face him.

Brown eyes met bright green eyes with silence a silence broken by Lily "Remus we're sorry that we couldn't tell you but you were out of country and..." "Its fine." The werewolf smiled softly. "I understand it was worth it to see this little guy alive and well." As he said that he looked down to see the small hand of Harry Potter in his, curling around his thumb. Tears pricked in his eyes, this was worth anything. Sirius grinned at him "Wanna play?"

Peter Pettigrew was not a kind man nor was he particularly special, no he was just a small runt who was desperately trying to succeed at life. Always had been always would be. He had never loved his friends, he had liked them but that was as much as his bitter jealously would allow. He growled mentally. Jealousy. As fierce jealousy coursed through him. Jealous of Remus for always being smart and liked, (forgetting about his furry little problem) jealous of Sirius for being a ladies man whilst also being smart and popular and jealous of James. Oh how he was jealous of James where to begin? His popularity, ability at being a seeker, grades, money, titles and overall how he got the girl. That really ticked Pettigrew off, he always got everything Peter wanted. Everything.

As he thought about this and stared with a pained grin on his face as he looked at the newest Potter brat, it was there loving Remus and Sirius whilst he looked on just standing there. "Hey Peter," James started grinning, " Meet Harry. "Peter grinned rather forcefully back at his friends and the Longbottoms who were watching on with smiles. " Congratulations!" He said, "To both of you." He added looking to the rather bland baby held in the arms of Alice Longbottom. The party smiled at him and invited him to sit. He chose a seat near the Potter baby to get a good view of what he was my missing out on. The stupid brat took one look at him and started screaming, loudly. Very loudly. It was only once Peter backed away next to the Longbottoms that he stopped looking pouty in Remus's arms as Sirius tickled it's feet gently.

Lily was surprised, Harry had never cried before but our him near Peter and he lost it? Strange. Must be the ritual affecting his moods she thought. Yes that was it.

The evening gave way to darkness as the adults talked quietly as the babies dosed gently in their respective mother's arms. A hour or so after Remus and Peter's arrival the fire flamed green again this time revealing a tall man with neatly trimmed long white hair tucked into his belt, half moon spectacles and robes of the most expensive purple robes with moons on. Albus Dumbledore had arrived. Upon seeing Dumbledore the Potters and Sirius stiffened slightly, a move that went unnoticed by all the other wizards and witches in the room. All except for the small bundle in Lily's arms as he got slightly protectively pulled into his mother's chest.

Dumbledore moved into the limelight looking cheery and kind, unbeknownst to the other adults in the room he was studying the two boys In front of him. Both were healthy but there was only one that stood out over the other by a clear margin. Harry Potter, the boy he didn't know existed sat there looking at him cautiously with killing curse green eyes. After looking at the Longbottoms warmly he walked over to the Potters and marauders. "He truly is something isn't he," Dumbledore began, " I am just sorry that you didn't feel the need to trust me with such vital information." He was starting on his disappointed grandfather speech that he was so infamous for. " Sorry Albus," the fiery red headed mother said "But we do not regret our decision, it was to protect our son and it worked spectacularly."

Underneath his mask Albus was angry but internally smiled at what was to come. " Be that as it may I am afraid I come with worrying news about the war." He sighed nailing the concerned look, even as Lily narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. All the other parilties in the room panicked at the news but blanched when Dumbledore said "I am so sorry to break up your meeting but I must speak to the Potters and Longbottoms alone."

After a brief argument which was led by mainly Sirius the marauders left the couple's and Dumbledore at the manor. Seeing that the couple's were braced he cut straight to the chase. " I am sorry to say that I have witnessed a prophecy about the future of our world." He started slowly, " said prophecy predicts that the world will be rid of Voldemort by a child born to parents that have thrice fought him and shall be born on the end of the seventh month and... I have come to the conclusion that one of your son's will save the country."

Silence...

"But isn't that a good thing?" Frank tried.

"Well usually yes but there has been a suspected leak in our security and now Voldemort knows the prophecy as well." All the new parents paled.

"Our boys are at risk?" Alice whispered hoarsely. Dumbledore nodded "I'm afraid so."

The Potters blanched they had sworn to protect their child whatever the cost and now they were going to have to. Not that there was a problem with that it just put Harry in an immensely dangerous situation.

There was one thought on both Potters minds. Shit.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The following weeks passed without problem and by Christmas the prophecy could be mostly ignored and life moved on with. There was however one small problem with Harry. He had not stopped talking, ever since Halloween he had called James dada, Lily mummy, Sirius padfoo and Remus Mooey. He had no name for Pettigrew as he hated his guts. On one day he had seemingly learned to talk quite well for a baby and had not shut up. Whether it was to ask for something or to say hello he would do it fifty times a day, everyone had been shocked out of their mind and the parents of the Order were jealous.

But Lily was worried about her son, he could not sit still during something he found boring (which was a lot) and he was not even slightly as talented with his letters as he was with speech. On a November afternoon a few weeks before he had crawled over to Lily working on an unspeakable rune sequence when Harry came over and slowly by pointing named every rune cluster as though reading it came naturally to him, James had nearly wet himself laughing at her face.

After Harry had used James's rather colourful vocabulary to describe his surprise and excitement at Sirius transforming into a dog In front of him for the first time Lily decided to go and see a no-maj child paediatrician. As she did not trust anyone in the magical community at the moment, or ever with her child.

The next Saturday when both James and Lily could get out of work they flooed to the leaky cauldron hoods over their faces and left into muggle London without turning any heads. After changing quickly they hailed at taxi and placed Harry on James's lap.

When they arrived at London's paediatric ward they sat in the waiting room and talked quietly as Harry sat looking at one of the magazines he had asked to look at whilst in his mother's lap.

After 5 minutes their appointment was called up and the three moved into room 14 with Dr Steadmast a child physiatrist who specialised in child mental welfare.

"Hello Mr and Mrs Potter," he greeted before turning to Harry, "And this must be the young baby Harry." The boy in question frowned before returning the smile, "Heyo Mr Steadmast!" he beamed gurgling loudly in joy.

...

The man in question looked beyond shocked, "What," he gaped, "How is this possible? Isn't he only about 7 months old!?"

Lily just smiled as her husband ruffled their sons hair. " Well that's why were here doctor, he is capable of impressive mental feats for his age like speech, he cannot pay attention for incredibly short periods of time (even for babies) and he is able to understand foreign languages instinctively but is helpless with English. Despite him knowing the alphabet." Lily said.

Nodding slowly the doctor (despite being very confused) replied, "And you want to know why" he got two nods in affirmation. "Well let's get started then!"

The doctor then enthusiastically went through numerous tests with Harry and their was lots of nodding and writing on his clipboard. With the final test Harry was asked to look at a board with hundreds of different mosaic tiles on a screen all with small non linking images on. And as the doctor looked on excitedly pen quivering in his hand Harry stared at the board for 1 minute.

After one minute was up the mosaics were removed from the board and placed In front of Harry. "Okay Harry do you remember what you have to do? The doctor asked receiving a nod he continued, "Well off you go then."

Over the next ten minutes Harry using his small baby hands placed each mosaic tiles where he thought they should go. When all were accounted for he toddled back to his mother. Not realising all the adults were staring open mouthed at the sight before them. On the board every single piece was in place, every square the right way up and lined up with careful accuracy.

It was incredible.

The physiatrist was beyond excitement scrawling down every detail of each experiment with incredible speed. It was only after Lily made a rather loud cough he finally came to.

After regaining his professionalism he turned to the expectant Potters. "Well Mr and Mrs Potter I must say that it is a delight to get to tell you this because really your baby is far more remarkable and unique than any child I ever though I would see never mind diagnose. (Lily swelled with pride as all mothers do when they know that their children are complimented) Harry seems to have three main mental abnormalities that would not be there in other children. However these 3 are not bad as they could in fact be incredibly beneficial. The first is that he is dyslexic, a trait that due to his exceptional mental abilities we can diagnose now at this young age. This will hold him back in reading English but as you said about other languages help him get to grips with foreign languages far quicker than other people."

"The next is that he has a form of ADHD which involves all of the usual things such as spacing out, difficulty following orders or instructions, **(AN: This is important later.)** being unable to sit still and low attention span. However instead of damaging his ability to sense emotions like normal people would as is usual in ADHD it seems to have hugely helped him in recognising body language etc."

"Finally and most importantly he has got the rare gift of having hyperthymesia an incredibly rare type of hyper advanced memory that allows those with it to remember everything that they have ever tasted, touched, smelt or felt . Of course it has its disadvantages like only being able to memorise certain subjects etc **(AN: this bit is true.)** But yet again Harry here has broken the rules and seems to be able to remember everything. Which will help hugely in his future studies etc."

"So is this all good and no catches?" James asked hopefully.

The doctor sighed "There are draw backs, as Harry will also remember every horrific moment in his life and the emotions that come with it."

Lily paled at the thought of his first memory of life. "How far back does he remember?" she asked hoping and curious about if it was the blood adoption ritual that caused the supreme memory abnormality.

In response the man in question bent down to the young boy and queried, "Harry how far back do you remember? What is your first memory?"

Harry frowned in concentration " I remember warm, dark then light and screaming... A woman not like mummy ... Lots of naughty words daddy sometimes uses (James blushed) and lots more screaming, sad. A little doggy moved me. Then a man." As he said this Harry grew paler and paler as did Lily. When continued his voice shook. "And he ... He ... yelled loudly. And then..." tears soaked his eyes as he broke down in his mother's arms.

Quick as a flash a teary eyed James obliviated the doctor, destroyed his notes and took his distraught wife and son back home. His wife breaking at the thought of her son having to lift such a burden.

A gift is usually a curse wrapped in a bow.

**Next chapter soon probably short but sweet and thanks so much for the support.**

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	5. Chapter 5: The beginning of the Prophecy

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Despite the war and it's raging interference in the lives of all involved it was one of the best times of the Potters and Sirius' lives. The war seemed unimportant when playing with their respective child and godson. The news of his gifts had been received with both joy and sadness by the three who strived to love and cherish Harry all the more to help erase those cold memories of his first experience.

As the year went on so did life for the Potters Harry grew more advanced by the day and the family took joy in helping him in every way possible. There were of course a few slip ups in his behaviour and control.

The first and largest of which occurred when the Potters, and large Weasley family met up for a huge playdate. It was after much insistence from Molly Weasley and Alice that Lily finally gave in as she held a strong dislike for the Weasley matriarch who was always fussing over her children overprotectively and rather obnoxious when it came to anything from children to opinions on the no-maj community. (Which she felt were below wizards like them.) So naturally going to the Burrow was an irritating experience.

She had no problems with Arthur as she felt he was kind and patient (he would have to be with Molly as a wife) or their children who were always welcoming. So when she was greeted by the one family member she didn't like she inwardly cursed as she stepped out of the fireplace to be greeted by a heavily pregnant Molly Weasley.

She was dragged through the kitchen by the plump woman and led to the small but admittedly cosy living room, clad in orange shawls and large squishy armchairs. In one corner opposite a tiny window was a large clock that had all the current families names on. Their faces pointing to home and work (for Mr Weasley) Lily smiled to herself, useful she thought.

Sat in one of the armchairs was her best friend Alice Longbottom and her son Neville. Neville she sighed mentally, she didn't not like the boy it was just that he was so ultimately boring. Harry always kept her in her toes and she could talk to him for hours on end (although he did not always understand her completely) but Neville was just an average baby, which was understandable since that's how they were supposed to act.

Then she saw another small rather chubby boy with messy red hair, this was Ron Weasley the youngest Weasley at the moment. Ronald she noted with disgust smelt positively vile and his mouth was smeared with food.

Mrs Weasley must have also seen this as she rushed over to Ron and started rubbing his face with a handkerchief whilst cooing as the boy began to scream and kick off screaming "Fooo" incredibly loudly.

Once again Lily had to hide a grimace when Molly turned around with screaming baby saying "Little man's hungry, he's got to eat to get big and strong." The grimace returned. In the Potter woman's arms her small baby also grimaced with slightly less tact but as she turned to face him he was eyeing the youngest Weasley ... with ... gold eyes? Wait no green, yes green. Must of been a trick off the light. As she brushed off of that train of thought. The next few hours consisted of Molly and Alice talking with one another as Lily sat at the side adding into the conversation every now and then. Her main occupation though was keeping Harry entertained as he could not pay attention to anything for more than minutes.

Molly in her eternal annoying habit tried to get her sons to all play with Harry. All of them enjoyed his company as he could roughly converse with them and was adorable. And in truth Harry did enjoy all of the Weasley company except Percy (a stuck up little Ponce in Lily's mind), Ronald (Much to Molly's annoyance) and Molly whom he subtlety ignored and avoided.

After one of the oldest boys had come down (Charlie, Lily thought) and him and Harry had a very exited conversation about dragons and dangerous animals (which involved a tatty moving pop up book that the Potter baby could not read but still enjoyed looking up) Molly then shooed him away (much to both their annoyance) to try and get him to spend time with the shouting and screaming Ron.

Now it took a careful clever eye to notice, but since Lily had just that she had seen that every boy that had come down had looked at Ron with an almost subconsciously occurring annoyance. They had probably not even noticed they were doing it, but this boy must be really horrible to get such a close family to dislike him. Don't mistake her though she did understand that this was a baby and thus his personality was not set, but really? His behaviour was disgusting.

Now the 'accident of amazingness' (as the situation was later dubbed by Sirius.) started when Ron was (surprise surprise) screaming for food and getting incredibly angry and Molly had given him to Lily - much to her distaste - in the hopes of getting the two boys friendly. And that's when it happened, as Molly was in the kitchen Ron once again kicked off and began smacking Lily with his meaty fists in rage.

Harry who had been playing with blocks quietly had seen Ron being left on his mother which sparked that fiercely protective spark deep inside of him that all sons and daughters have with their mothers.

He breathed in deeply and tried to continue with his blocks, when the tantrum started he turned originally in annoyance but instantly after seeing that the boy was hitting his mother. HIS mother, that original spark turned into a blazing primordial fire that coursed through him and with that rage his magic kept up to meet it.

His eyes began to glow and the ground began to shake around the Burrow pots and pans fell audibly in the kitchen. The Potter child's hair went zero gravity as water whipped from the sky vigorously pounding against the windows. Lily whipped her head away from Ronald as he continuously smacked into her, not hurting but pissing her the fuck off.

Looking at such devastating powder emmiting from her son pained her looking into those hurt and angry eyes she understood why he was furius. Quickly pushing Weasley off of her she jumped forward and snatched up her son.

"Shhh .. shh it's fine he wasn't hurting me baby.." she murmured softly into his ear. With gentle satisfaction she felt him go limp in her arms. That was until one Ronald Billius Weasley decided to be a little bitch and start screaming and kicking at Lily, at the same time Molly walked into the room after she had checked the house after the 'freak weather' had smashed into it. Ron lifted a chubby arm to pull Harry out of Lily's arms when a bold of pure white energy struck him on his outstretched arm causing his whole body to freeze up and shudder falling back several inches.

Molly screamed startling Alice and Neville respectively from their joint gentle siesta. Harry looked up with no little amount of satisfaction as a pale baby was lead into the kitchen by its mother.

After that scenario Lily had apologised to Molly who had blamed it on accidental magic. To which Molly merely shook her head and accepted it but not before looked at Harry with no small amount of greed and lust for his raw power. (To which Lily walked away as quickly as possible.)

Other problems happened occasionally such as Harry and James shopping in muggle London when Harry began to scream at a man who five minutes later tried to rob a Loylds bank but was subtlety stunned by James in his attempt. These scenarios were common but completely confused his parents, it was almost as if he could sense people's nature and intentions.

Despite this they loved their son dearly but with every passing day became increasingly dangerous. The war was not going well; the ministry was completely corrupt and the last rogue aurors were casting the three unforgivables on both friend and foe, the order was doing fuck all stunning and pissing away any chance of reducing death eater ranks and more fighters were lost everyday.

At the start of October the stakes were low, nothing could be done to stop the onslaught that everyone knew would happen. It was unavertable. Peter was acting up as well Lily noticed, now she had never liked Peter that much as he had always clung to the group like moss onto a rock and lacked any real personality. But even so he was always shaking and sweating unnecessarily. They had barely seen him anymore although they didn't notice it as much as they would due to the war taking so much out of them. Plus he had steadily began to draw away from the group recently but gradually so they yet again barely noticed.

On Halloween the Potter father returned to give his wife and son a hug. It had been a long day as Fenir Greyback had been unleashed onto his squad and they had lost three good men and close friends. Lily had been at home all day to stay with Harry and was preparing him to go out trick or treating. Seeing this as he walked in James grinned. Harry was struggling with his skeleton feet. And Lily was laughing at his annoyed frown.

After their small venture for sweets that only lasted about an hour as it was freezing and wet which was not unusual in Britain. Harry had gotten quite the loot from a the old woman around him who were besotted by him. As is usual with Halloween he stuffed his face with sweets and had an all time high sugar high.

James kissed Lily on the cheek as she leant down and picked up Harry from where he was scrabbling like a mouse or hamster at the sofa. As she went up the stairs she tried to whisper to him and tickle him so he would go to sleep, to no avail. Putting him in his cot was hard as he wouldn't stop moving about but eventually he settled and let her tuck him in.

That's when all went wrong. Bang! A loud bang Shot through the cottage immediately stirring Lily from her efforts. "James!" she screamed down the staies. "Shit! Lily he's here! Take Harry and run, I'll try to hold him off!" was the strained replay she got. Grabbing Harry she shot up and tried to apperated, no luck. Then she tried their emergency portkey, ditto success. As she placed Harry back into the cot she heard the exchange of spell fire and chaos down stairs. "Mummy what's happening?" asked a fearful Harry. In replay she returned "My amazing boy, listen to me Harry you may not understand now or for a long time but you've got to return here one day. You are the only one that can defeat him." All she got was a fearful look at her as a pudgy hand wrapped around hers. "Im scared mummy." Lily smiled sadly, " I know baby but you've got to stand up, live your life to help others and as free as the wind." Inwardly she winced at the look on her baby's face. Thump.

That sound was inescapable, the sound of a corpse hitting the floor. Lily's heart ached like never before. Her James, her James had fallen, it was her time as well. "Mummy and Daddy love you baby, we will never leave you." She cooed to her baby as tears streamed down her face. Quickly she tucked something into the back of his pyjamas, something that was quite large and cold. "Mummy.. I" the door of the nursery exploded off of its hinges revealing a haunting figure.

Tall, pale and with two red snake eyes Lord Voldemort had come. "I'm here for the boy!" he demanded, "Stand aside silly girl!" Lily shook her head, "no please not my son, not my son, please take me, NOT MY SON!" Voldemort's eyes turned cold "Stand aside!"

She spat on him.

The temperature in the room dropped. "Fine." He said coldly back, "Have it you're way." Before Lily could respond the man screamed at her "AVADA KEDAVRA!" and a green light shot from his wand into her chest.

"MUMMY!" Harry screamed seeing his mother fall to the floor eyes glazed with tears, she was sprawled across the floor. Lily and James Potter were dead. Voldemort turned towards the cry coming face to face with a wailing baby. "Ah," Harry fell silent at the hissed words, "Harry Potter, at long last we meet. I have waited to do this for too long. That damned prothecy has kept us apart for too long. You have simply... been hiding. A rogue running from the law of you will... a coward." He finished smirking. Harry stood uneasily on his small legs, glaring at the man despite himself.

"Well an act of final defiance I suppose, must run in the family," Voldemort sneered, "Goodbye little rogue ... AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort screamed as the bright green light coming from his wand struck Harry hitting him square in the head. Harry fell back as a gold mist rose in front of him and both gold and green light flew into the killers chest. Another bang echoed through the house as Voldemort exploded into ash.

Harry did not celebrate this victory or even notice it. He kept fading in and out of consciousness appearing to be dead from a distance. Over the course of that evening he saw many strange things; he saw a small rat pick up the bad man's wand, a greasy man in a bat cloak walked in and began to cry over his mummy! That enraged Harry as only he and his daddy could hold mummy like that! But he couldn't protest or even make a noise as he soon faded into unconscious darkness.

Then he heard angry shouting about the rat traitor from a voice that sounded familiar, as he was picked up. After that the world dissolved into inky cold blackness, with a cold chill and the roar of a machine. Great pants of air hit him in the face, the only warmth he received. Slowly he dissolved into a gentle sleep one filled with nightmares and horror. Finally subconsciously he felt himself moved and began to stir. Looking up he saw an old man and an old woman. The latter of whom looked very angry.

The last thing he felt was being set down by a door in the cold and the old man attaching a letter to his blankets. One he was facing Harry and his companions could not see him, he whispered "I am the saviour of this world boy, enjoy hell." As he said this his face changed to a cruel smirk that scared the semi conscious boy.

The man's face brightened again as he pointed his wand at the baby. Harry felt himself give into the cold grasp of sleep.

That's where he lay until dawn Harry Potter the boy who lived, was left on a porch in the cold. Alone again.

**OOOOH there it is hope you enjoyed PLEASE REVIEW and look out for the next chapter.**

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	6. Chapter 6: A new beginning

**Hey guys,****I firstly want to thank all of those who reviewed and liked on this story, your love will go a long way to improving my motivation and desire to continue this story.****FOR ALL REVIEWS I THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH BUT PLEASE DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON WHAT YOU LIKE AND DISLIKE AND WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE FUTURE.**

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Dawn rose like fog from a marsh in the light of the rising sun. The perfect world that surrounded the Potter heir was perhaps too perfect. Sprinklers were all programmed to go off at exactly the same time and every garden was the same. Green grass surrounded by short rose bushes, hanging baskets brimming with pansies spread deep purples and pinks thought the neighbourhood. The milk was always delivered the same order for every person in the drive and all the residents wake and open the door to receive both the milk and morning paper, it worked like clockwork.

This to some may seem like paradise but it was anything, anywhere else. It lacked the one thing that made every life... well life. Diversity, diversity gives life it's own edge, different people to meet and keep preoccupied and the diversity of the daily routine. Which could vary from no cornflakes to a whole country being blown to pieces. And whilst it may seem grim conflict is what makes the good times good.

Of course no such nonsense existed in Privet Drive. No no. Only order and discipline of the local standards ruled in this neighbourhood, that is until now. After all not many households have a baby laying asleep outside.

As the sprinklers went off and silence once again reigned a black taxi cut through the silence. Inside sat a well kept man with pitch black hair and dark eyes. The man's name was Giuseppe Tazim a nobleman, wizard and member of the assassin's creed. For years Giuseppe had lived in Italy fighting against the Templar order but no matter how hard he hit the Creed was hit harder. His plight was not an uncommon one though, all over the world the creed was slowly losing rites as Templars began to make bolder moves whilst still hiding behind others. Even the magical Creed could not fight the power of age as few were willing to take up the mantle.

The creed had previously switch to magical blood for the main reason of betrayal and a wizards oath would stop that. After being betrayed so many times and suffering highly (*Cough Shay Cough*) although apparently this wasn't new as many famous assassin's such as Kassandra, Othello **(AN: Didn't know second name but it sounds cool (Plus reference to the emerald blade book one that is an exceptional fanfic on Harry Potter/ Assassin's creed which was sadly lacking a sequel but one I recommend)** Altair and Ezio Auditore da Firenze were known to be magical along with others.

Giuseppe was a greater assassin of 52 years old which was shown in the grey hairs that darted from his head. He had developed eagle vision well for such a young age and had soon mastered it. He specialised in seeing auras and feeling their magical power **(AN: Certain Assassins held certain eagle vision abilities) **so naturally when driving along a road in the back of a taxi it is not expected to feel an enormous amount of power coming from outside a door frame and a blinding flash of a golden with a small speck of blood red glow emitting from it.

After asking the taxi driver to stop and momentarily stunning him so he could look and check unseen by any civilian that happened to be breaking the neighbourhood unspoken rules. Reaching the door way he spotted a small baby boy with a rush of blacked streaked hair sleeping uneasily. He activated his eagle vision properly this time to show a bright golden glow surrounding the boy and a small blood red line on his forehead. Deciding to investigate further he lifted the baby hair and almost recoiled in horror.

That scar was the one that was being talked about around the pub yesterday! The saviour of the wizarding world Harry potter had a lighting shaped scar! So what in god's name was the hero of the wizarding world doing here?

After looking at the boy he heard some thumps of footsteps echoing on the other side of the door. Deciding to look and see what kind of people these at this house were before letting the boy go with them. After all someone who leaves a boy with no warming charm, a letter and a fuck load of trackers and some other monitoring spells in him was no kind of rational man. He lifted the baby around the front of the house and listened as the door opened. A fat man came out with a large walrus moustache and a reeking tang of cheese that followed him like his shadow. Inwardly Giuseppe sighed and grimaced at the same time. "Bloody twat of a milkman leaving the milk too far from the door!" he muttered angrily. Before turning and screaming loudly at his house "PERTUNIA! That bloody faggot of a milkman put the milk on the edge of the porch again!" His tone making the old assassin blink in surprise. "Write a letter dear to the company saying that the bastard was touching his crouch inappropriately or some shit!" came the reply. Another blink.

As the horrid man went back inside his house the assassin practically ran towards the taxi baby in arms and after placing the tracking charms onto a plant pot in the front garden and the monitoring charms on a koi that swam lazily in a pond a few gardens down he hopped back into the taxi. With the baby in his arms he received the driver and confounded him into not asking about the baby or its sudden appearance he turned his attention to the task at hand. Who the fuck put a child outside in November with no warming charm and with those horrid people.

Noticing a letter clenched in the child's hand he gently opened it and began to read.

_Dear Mrs Dursley_

_I am writing to inform you that you sister Lily has recently passed at the hands of the late Lord Voldemort. James her husbands body was found in their house as well and therefore lies no one to take care of the baby now. I ask you to take in the boy until his eighteenth birthday when he loses the trace. He is of course magical and shall go to Hogwarts at 11 years old. In repayment for this you will of course be paid a sum of £250,000 a year that comes straight from the Potter vault. It is however important to note that you do not need to spend any money on the boy and you may do whatever you feel is necessary to the boy. As long as he is alive you will get paid._

_Please destroy_ _this letter immediately._

_A.P.W.B.D_

The man's blood boiled. He knew who wrote this letter, he knew who this boy was and his importance. The war had turned Britain into a laughing stock around the world at their incompetence but the horrors of war were still here. This boy had saved them. How dare Dumbledore, how dare he give a family permission to harm their own kin, how dare he.

He needed the boy weak that was for sure. But why? Control? The boy would be a political titan when he grew up it was a possibility that he wanted to manipulate the boy. Well he would never control the baby, the Italian vowed In that taxi. He would raise the baby by himself as an assassin. No one could control an assassin.

As Giuseppe arrived at the magical wing of Heathrow with a heavily glamoured baby in his arms he quickly walked into security and grabbed onto long rope. international Portkeys were rare in Britain as they had isolated themselves from the rest of the magical world. This one alone had cost him a small fortune. He had originally arrived to see the state of the brotherhood here but was saddened to lean that it collapsed during WWII and the war with Grindelwald. Most families in noble positions and some smaller minor families knew assassins as a myth, a legend.

Some of the oldest dark and light families feared the assassin brotherhood as the magical law system favoured the powerful and did not give some any choice in the matter. And their fear was warranted if the brotherhood had been around they would have removed the want to be Templars with pinpoint accuracy.

When grabbing the portkey Giuseppe reapplied the sleeping charm in the baby with vigour, better for the boy to not know what was about to happen. And as he shot through international air space at the speed of sound he was sure the baby appreciated it as well. After landing in Florence's airport he stood and dusted himself off, security was easy enough as he managed to gently subtlety confund the officer with his little wandless magic to let both him and the boy through security without much trouble.

Few people actually knew that the Italian was actually a wizard as he preferred to use his wits and assassin skill as a means to survive, even his house was wardless because he wanted any who tried to attack him to face him head on. He was a firm believer in skill on skill fighting, believing that soldiers or fighters deserved a chance to survive.

A Templar leader was a completely different matter. As failure could lead to hundreds of unnecessary innocent deaths that could have been prevented. Thus due to his rather simplistic moral views he was opposed to drone strikes etc as it was a cowardly way to fight by killing those fighting for a cause instead of the leader of the cause.

So instead of pulling out a broomstick like a normal wizard he hailed a taxi and began to zigzag dangerously through traffic in the true reckless style of Italian driving. Florence was a magnificent city, nuff said. **(AN: RIP Stan Lee)** Beautiful vast terracotta roofs contrasted against the pale blue cloudless sky and the sweeping green Cyprus stood bold against the light gentle breeze that kept the warm temperatures bearable. Beauty in its finest the gem of Florence and Italy. Rome was magnificent but Florence was the crown of the assassin world Rome had fallen prey to the modern world filled with tourists and roads that swept through the city. Florence had resisted the changes and still kept its old ways that had merged with the modern.

Assassins had ruled Italy for centuries, becoming what was once the London of the British empire. That was in the past though Italy was ravaged by a disease the disease of the Templars. Giovanni Auditore had ravaged the city and Italy itself of the brotherhood. He betrayed his blood like his family before him, thank God that the Italian brotherhood still had allies in the national magical institution of Italy that made sure all prospective Templar children or symphisers were bound of their magic. This had been started by Ezio Auditore himself who had gone from magical school to magical school with the agreement to bond all magical Templars powers eventually wiping all magical blood from the order. Centuries of blood vows and memory editing had kept the magical world a secret from the manipulative bastards.

It was a blessing that magic would not exist in genetic memories as the Templars were advancing at that every day. It turns out that due to the human brains incapability to properly conceive magic with our having it (Eg Mist) magic even when used or spoken was not displayed in the animus. Even magicals could not see magic through genetic memories.

The Auditore family was a sore spot for any assassin. After Ezio's death his wife Sofia had quickly taken another husband a known Templar.** (AN: Sorry Sofia fans but it had to be done.)** He quickly convinced her to join the order and successfully converted the entire family until modern day. Assassins all over the world were hurt by this change of allegiance and responded with swift attacks against the family. Sofia was killed early on as was most of the family throughout the centuries. They had been relatively uneventful until the birth of Giovanni who as the last of the family line had avenged his family ruthlessly and cruelly. A very sore spot indeed.

Giuseppe mentally sighed thinking of the Brotherhood, the Templars were undoubtedly winning and for once the brotherhood was not recovering. The order had been making bolder and more violent efforts against the assassins as their numbers receded, they still took to the shadows but they had started to restart stirring their plot for one unified nation through racism and terrorism despite not caring about either cause and believed all men were below them no matter the race.

Giovanni was the centre of all this, he had started small but was now the overseer of the Templar order, he had started a massive slave trade taking from Africa and selling to anyone that wanted his services. Every where from Libya to the ebony coast and south Africa was free game to him. Who ever looked to find the individual responsible came up with nothing despite ARGUS **(AN: Imagine a DC version of SHEILD but not important to know about)** , SHIELD and the Nation of Wakanda among others trying to find out.

Assassins had tried hundreds of times to desperately kill the man but he was surrounded by a personal army equipped with some of the finest weaponry available. Even if you could get past the army you still had the problem of the man himself, he was rumoured to have killed hundreds of assassins and was a known brilliant fighter. Some said that he kept the robes of his assassin victims on mannequins to show off at Templar events.

Giuseppe hated it, he hated that man and everything he stood for. Giovanni had killed many of his friends and had decimated the creed to the point where you could count the brotherhood on one hand. And that was all over the world.

The baby in his arms nuzzled deeper into his arms, he did not know why he took the boy but he was sure that Harry Potter would make ripples in history but for better or worse he did not know. After a short trip in the taxi that would to any other driver that was not Italian a death-trap they rolled up to a magnificent villa overlooking Florence, the building was a stereotypical terracotta topped masterpiece that had changed little since the renaissance. Large grounds spread behind it that were neatly kept but not perfectly because like many other assassins before him who were magical he preferred to use his physical skills instead of magic as an achievement made with magic is magical achievement not ones own.

Or in the famous words of Altair 'Magic numbs the senses and creates an idle brain for which the enemy will exploit when magic is unavailable.' That did not however mean that assassins were incapable magicians in fact they had developed many branches of powerful magic and potions over the years. Giuseppe himself was in terms of raw magical power was a match for Albus Dumbledore. Any legendary master assassins such as Kassandra, Altair, Bayek, Ezio Auditore, Evie and Jacob Frye and the Kenways were known to be awesome forces of magical power that could smear Dumbles to a dust particle. Although it is said that Edward was never properly trained at all but apart from him all legends received basic magical training. But as mentioned above none chose to pursue a full magical life, preferring instead to follow the creed.

Taking the still sleeping boy in his arms he walked up towards the door and opened the door quietly. He was greeted by a warm open interior decorated with extravagant lights and open views across his land through the windows, quickly putting all his things away and unpacking he buttered a small roll and squeezed some fresh orange juice into a glass.

Sighing he drew his wand, this was the bit he wasn't looking forward to. With a flick magic crept over the boys body and green and gold eyes met dark brown eyes. Harry just sat there silently, his mind internally reeling. Where were his parents? Who were those two scary men? Who is this man? Why is it so hot? Where is he?

"My boy," Giuseppe began gently, "What do you remember?" in all fairness he wasn't expecting an answer as this was a baby but he may as well try.

Harry on the other hand blinked, should he trust this man? Deep down he instinctively knew he was a friend so he decided to chance it. " Well I only remember bits but a big boom and then a man... A scary man that made mummy go .. limp and she wouldn't hear me." He said voice thick with emotion and worry. The assassin was shocked that a boy of only a year old could speak so well but set aside his emotion and opted to helping the boy.

"That man was called Voldemort," he said slowly, "he hated your parents and found where you were living." He received a small meek nod in return "Daddy spoke about him when they thought I couldn't understand them." Came the reply from the baby. Harry then bowed his head silent tears dropping off his nose and chin. "There not coming back are they." He mumbled quietly, the old man's heart broke and instead of responding he picked the boy up and clutched him to his chest. They were going to need each other.

After an hour of mourning from both parties Harry drifted off into an uneasy sleep, that was where he remained for the next few hours as he rested from the emotional strain. The nest morning he awoke gently to find himself lying in a small bed facing a glorious view of a large city clad in orange tiles. Even in his grief he could not stop feeling amazed and in awe at such a sight, after his mental struggle to get up he lifted himself from the bed and his feet met smooth cold tiles.

Hefting himself with great effort he walked steadily through cream cold stone walls and past multiple devices and interesting weapons that adorned the walls. On the wall in a lounge area that was equipped with a large Indian rug, a wide-screen TV was a pair of what looked to be leather gauntlets with a pointed metal strip in the middle of both with a small mechanism surrounding them.

This caught the young boys attention but as he got closer he heard the clinking of cutlery on china, slowly he walked towards the thin curtains that billowed in the gentle wind whilst draped in golden light from the morning sun. Pulling the curtains aside he came face to face with the same man that he remembered waking up to.

"Hey kiddo glad to see you up," he gestured beckoning towards himself, "Come on join me and have something to eat, you must be starving."

Harry set himself down alongside the man and gingerly picked at the offered platter of fruit, breads and nuts it all looked amazing but the strain on his emotions kept him burdened down. "What now." He asked quietly almost afraid of the answer. "Well I was hoping that I would be able to raise you up and take care of you here." Responded Giuseppe gently. His response was only received with a slow nod.

As the conversation continued and developed Giuseppe asked how such a young boy could take so well and could remember so much. And so strangely trusting the man before him he told him about the doctors appointment and what he had. His ADHD, dyslexia and perfect memory. The old assassin was stunned, Harry James Potter the hero of the wizarding world was gifted in so many more ways than magical. He could change the brotherhood forever.

When Harry finished his tale Giuseppe raised himself up from the table left the room and then returned hastily to his seat. With a grave face he lifted up the object and placed it into the awaiting young hands.

Harry was speechless at what he saw before him. In his hands lay a small orange retro Walkman music player. It was a gift from James to Lily on her birthday. The cassette was charmed to be able to contain over 5 albums with over 60 songs in each. All available in magical areas thanks to some very impressive and complex runic work from James himself. The headphones had been replaced with more advanced modern ones that could also be turned into ear phones. Needless to say Lily had lived it and had listened to her songs with Harry for hours and hours they both loved it.

So seeing such an almost priceless gift from his mother was too much for the young boy who started to gently sob into his free hand whilst the other tightly clenched around the player. "I found this tucked in your onzie." The old man said softly, "Your mother clearly wanted you to have it."

After a few seconds of awkward silence Harry chose to be more direct in his line of questioning, "Where are we?" at this the adult smiled at the young boy, "We Harry are in Florence a city in Italy. A little while away from England by plane or portkey."

Harry hesitated and nodded slowly before replying oddly tearfully, "Plea... please don't call me that." Giuseppe tilted his head confused as Harry continued, "Calling me Harry... It reminds me about.." his silence told Giuseppe everything he needed to know. Perfect memory was a bitch.

"Okay boy, what do you want to be called then?"

The Potter heir looked up at Giuseppe, what angered the bad man more than everything? What was the one thing that he was that the bad man didn't like? Reeling his mind replayed the man, Voldemort's words. Then it hit him, he would become what he needed to be to defeat his parents killer... To defeat all that hurt him. The old man, the bad man and the first evil man.

"Call me... Rogue."

**OOOOOH lets go.**** Im away on holiday for the next week so I may be disrupted in my schedule so please expect late releases**.

**IF YOU ARE ENJOYING PLEASE REVIEW AND SHOW YOUR LOVE THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH**


	7. Chapter 7: Revalations

**Wassup guys how are you all doing,**

**So sorry for the delay I was super busy and don't know how long it'll be till I can update regularly, at the moment it's pretty hit and miss. Onto other news an author by the name of mnp16891 has asked me to help him write a fanfic, sadly I had to decline due to my busy schedule but I will help him when necessary. So check that out. Hope you like the chapter and please review.**

The following day came quickly as the previous was spent in silence and gentle mourning. Surprisingly the newly named Rogue was coming to terms rather quickly to his parents death. He still mourned and cried as he was only child but in his head understood that he would see his parents again and was determined to complete his mother's final wishes him living freely and happily. Deep down despite his abilities of the mind he was still a child, a child that had yet to fully perceive the sadness and permanence of deaths. This was how it would remain for only a few short years.

Giuseppe had asked the boy for his permission to train and teach him. Harry accepted with and both had agreed that today Giuseppe should take Rogue to see what would happen to the Potter fortune and Rogue if, god forbid Dumbledore managed to get a hold of the boy. So naturally Oro d'italia the Italian branch of Gringotts was the natural choice. Fortunately said bank was also located in Florence so getting there would be both easy and Rogue could see Italy for the first time.

Upon the strike of midday which echoed from the heart of Florence spilling over the surrounding lands Giuseppe gathered himself and his new assassin in training. After rousing himself he brought from the small garage that he owned a small turquoise blue moped that shimmered in the sunlight, firstly he lifted Rogue gently in front of him and then got on himself. There was no need for helmets as the bike itself was covered in protective runes and anti crash charms that kept all riders safe. Giuseppe thought that moped was the best way to show the bow the wonders of Italy.

Rogue blinked in surprise at the warmth and gentle breeze as they took off onto the small empty road. Gone were the drizzly dirty English streets and here in their place was a beautiful terracotta clad city surrounded by golden fields of sunflowers and huge arrays of vineyards that looked like straight ropes of green lying along the fields. In his guardians arms he felt safe and comfortable for the first time since the murder of his parents. He always did feel at home traveling as it gave him a sense of uncontrollable delicious freedom.

As they entered the city of Florence the boys head span, tourists spewed into different colourful shops and the somehow inviting smell of cigarette smoke, pizza, petrol and delicious food gently simmering away waiting to be eaten. It was the greatest thing he had ever smelt. Giuseppe smiled down at the boy, he was sat staring happily at the scenes around him and the people they saw. To know that once Ezio Auditore himself prowled these grounds was truly remarkable and gave the man a large sense of pride.

As they went further into the city the busier it got. Tourists now clogged the streets and locals shouted at their friends and tourists alike both trying to communicate and to sell their wares. Stalls of all kinds blurred around them some of jewellery others covered in an assortment of fruit and exotic vegetables, restaurants were decorated with red candles ready to burn and waiters waiting politely by the open air menus and tables.

After bumping over cobbles and though winding streets the small path eventually gave way to a huge magnificent square that was surrounded with cream stone walls and restaurants. In the centre was a huge domed chapel with a bell tower to the side. The famed Duomo of Florence. To a wizards eyes it would appear that the tourists were entering one entrance into the dome after waiting in a long winding line. What only a wizard would see is the huge open arch that stood proud clad in golden lions and open to the square. The lions moved and stirred on their perches position and the huge solid emerald phoenix that lied on the crown of the entrance ruffled it's feathers majestically in the soft breeze.

Upon seeing the door Rogue's jaw dropped and went to ask Giuseppe a no doubt large barrage of questions. Laughing as he chained up his bike he picked up the young boy who was eyeing him with green-gold eyes. "Now now boy, no need for questions." He said quietly, "We can only see it because we are magical and all other questions will be answered shortly."

The boy nodded slowly as they moved towards the door and watched as the mortals eyes slid off of them and focused on other objects. Magic really was wonderful. Stepping though the arch the phoenix trilled in delight and they were greeted by a huge chandelier that had a different colour and type of jewels in each layer. A renaissance style painting surrounded the interior of the dome in a wrap-around painting depicting goblins underground in mines digging for gold, House elves building castles, Centaurs in their forests looking to the stars, Dwarves sitting in underground castles and cities alight with candles and will o wisps lighting their way, Merpeople living in underwater kingdoms that swirled with kelp and surrounded by huge sea creatures, Elves of old hunting giant spiders through cities of green and Wizards living in large gated cities, building civilization itself. All these races and more were depicted on the domes walls representation the power and might of all magical civilization.

Along the sides of the dome were large goblin tellers seats covered in jewels and gold. The first and nearest one he saw Giuseppe dragged a curious young boy to. Clearing his throat in a no nonsense way and spoke in a strange tongue that drew more of a few impressed looks from the surrounding goblins. " I would like an inheritance test please sir." He declared in goblin tongue.

The goblin in question looked shocked at being spoken to in his native language before nodding back, but not before letting his eyes flick to the young baby and evidently through the glamour and to his forehead upon which the lighting bolt scar lay. The creatures eyes widened in shock before eyeing Giuseppe in a suspicious 'you must know what you are doing way' and then turned back to another goblin waiting behind him.

After a brief discussion in Gobbledygook the goblin took Giuseppe s hand in his own and lead him though a dark tunnel behind the teller's desk after a few minutes of walking through twisting tunnels and different turns and corners. Dark caves were suddenly moved from view and replaced with stone block walls that were covered in small ferns that grew neatly in the cracks between them, torches burning with bright orange light illuminated a small door with the studded letters 'Artiglio Uncino' embedded in the wood.

The goblin merely nodded at the man, "Go through there to the inheritance master." Came the gravelly words from the goblins mouth. Then curtly he left leaving a small baby staring around him in wonder and an old assassin alone in the darkness. Giuseppe knocked on the wood and the door swung open in front of them, a small room with a Spartan decoration style greeted them alongside an aged looking goblin that sat on a stone chair.

"Sit." Said the regal goblin simply.

Giuseppe sat and placed Rogue on his lap, "I've come for an inheritance test for the boy." The man said cutting straight to the point. At this the goblin nodded understanding and respecting the swiftness of Giuseppe's tongue.

"It has been a long time indeed Assassin, I never thought I would see another member of your creed again, a true loss I must say. I was alive for the life of the Fryes and a golden age for assassins. We goblins will always stand by you no matter what but I am afraid it is over." At this bold statement from the wizened goblin Giuseppe was shocked at being recognised as an assassin before remembering that goblins could see through the glamour of the creed brand on his left ring finger.

"Thank you sir and I sadly share your sentiments I do not believe that the creed will recover as I am the last that follows the old ways, we have been declining for centuries but this is a sad way to go." Giuseppe's words seemed to affect them both and the goblin bowed his head in remorse and loss. The assassin was surprised that a goblin would show such emotion but quickly reshuffled his mind and emotions.

"Indeed a sad time for all of us. Goblins have not tasted such freedom since your downfall. However I do not believe that you came to be to remember or reminisce with an old goblin. If so you would not have brought such a young baby, especially not the Potter heir with you?" The old ones voice held a note of curiosity that Giuseppe recognised.

"I was traveling to Brittan to see the state of the creed (the goblin sighed at this) as I thought it may be the last stronghold, but alas it was not. But when I was travelling back I saw a young baby on a door step, which I eventually recognised as Harry Potter. After deciding to investigate I both saw what kind of people the owners of the house were and a letter that Albus Dumbledore had given them." Then he recited the letter and needless to say the goblin was furious ("That manipulative old cunt sucking goat fucker shit lick!") as a child in the goblin world was a priceless thing to be cherished above everything else. (Although during that rant Giuseppe clamped his hands over the young boys ears.) It took a while for the old goblin to calm and when he did he had an evil glint in his eye.

"Aah that is why I assume you brought him to get an inheritance test, to affirm his standing in the wizarding world and to derail Dumbledore control whilst keeping Dumbledore thinking that he still had the boy under his control." The goblin said in quiet satisfaction.

Giuseppe nodded, "Yes I have placed his monitoring charms on a fish that I have fuelled with a small amount of magical energy so that with luck it should live for a long time and the tracking on a rather ornate plant pot that has a subtle unbreakable charm on it, he then had to wait for the old goblin to stop cackling scarily before continuing, "I now wish to get check-ups on the boy to remove any more powerful binds that may harm his core growth and an inheritance test to see just how powerful he could be against Dumbledore if when he is older he decides to return to the wizarding world of Britain."

"Sensible very sensible, and I assume you will teach him in the ways of your people?" the inheritance master asked curiously.

"Yes. Yes I will I think that despite him not having the Brotherhood and the allies that we once did politically he could help the cause of freedom across the wizarding and no maj world's."

The goblin only smiled in fond sternness. "You care for the boy not just as an ally but a child." It was not a question. And it received no answer except a curt nod that has literally radiating reluctance.

Whilst this exchange was going on in Gobbledygook the young boy in question had with ADHD on full throttle started to fidget and mess with his hands boredly. Enough was enough when his new curt gave a curt nod to the other goblin and Rogue have In to the power that swelled inside of when he was scared or very bored. When he did this he felt himself collapse into a very uncomfortable feeling and then appear on the other side of the room in a dark corner covered in shadows. Instantly at the vanished child the two adults burst into English cries if shock horror and began to frantically look around.

Their eyes were drawn to the corner when a light giggle erupted from it and both males sagged in relief. Giuseppe rushed over to pick the baby up whereas the goblin looked stunned fir a second then ran and pulled open a desk draw, all whilst muttering, "accidental apperation incredibly advanced!" and "that should be impossible inside any goblin wards!" over and over again.

As both humans took their seat the goblin placed a piece of paper onto the desk with a flourish, "Now this is a recent creation of mine that combines all the tests for inheritance, magical power, magical health and some other blood based tests, I usually give wizards all of these separately to watch them suffer but for an assassin I will be fair to you and give you this one. All you must do is draw a line on top of the page with this blood quill."

Rogue nodded understanding the English slightly and picked up the offered quill after being explained to about what would happen in simple terms via whisper with Giuseppe. Slowly he drew a wavering line on the page, he felt the sharp pain in his hand but continued in spite of it subconsciously determined not to show weakness.

Then once he was finished he withdrew his hand with slight tears in his eyes until the light cut healed and his pain faded.

The piece of paper (the rest of the magical world besides Britain had stopped using quills and parchment except the use of officially binding documents) duplicated itself a few times before fancy blood red inky writing began to spread across the pages. Each with a different title and subject.

The first writing on the top sheet of paper read:

_Magical Abilities and binds of blood:_

_Magical Core: Restrained by 94% (50% Healer bind for magically powerful children to reduce risk of underage magical destruction, 44% additional placed by Albus Dumbledore recently was originally 48% but has been worn down by core itself.)_

_Magical Core unbound strength: (Overall strength does not change in life time measured in 1 – 100 scale average 50, powerful 70-80 (An: Dumbles and Voldemort guys) Error power generated immeasurable._

As both adults finished reading they looked at one another both in confusion and anger. The anger at Dumbledore for binding a child so severely and confusion at the error as it seemed that his core was creating it's own power from nothing and the fact that it was a vast amount of power that couldn't even be measured. Both shared a worried look as they both new that due to the general rules of magic and physics energy could not be destroyed or created.

Another curt nod from the goblin, Giuseppe moved aside the puzzling piece of paper and moved on to the next one.

_Legacy/ Inheritance of secondary (Giuseppe gave a looked confused at that whilst the inheritance master frowned) blood._

_Heir of James and Lily Potter (Both deceased_)

Heir _to the most ancient and noble house of Potter (Paternal)_

_Heir to the most ancient and noble house of Pervell (Paternal)_

_Heir to the ancient and noble house of Gryffindor (Paternal)_

_Heir to the ancient and noble house of Ravenclaw (Maternal)_

_Heir to the ancient and noble house of Huffelpuff (Maternal)_

_Heir to the noble house of Kenway (Maternal)_

_Heir to the noble house of Frye (Paternal)_

Both adults looked at each other in amazement and confusion, this piece of paper created even more questions!

"How is he an heir of the Kenway family?" asked Giuseppe curiously.

"The Kenway family recently split over the last 100 years or so and virtually died out but not before a young daughter of the family migrated here. There are only two strains of this family and sadly the most recent heir passed away under mysterious circumstances." Came his reply.

Giuseppe nodded understanding those circumstances, that young man in question had a lot of faith in the creed and he hated to think that it was a falsified belief.

" What about the secondary blood?" came the next question before he could stop it. The goblin pondered for a moment before answering. "It is my belief and from my experience as a master that Mr Potter here (Rogue flinched as he gazed absentmindedly at the paper.) may well be in fact blood adopted from another party previous to the Potters."

Giuseppe was stunned, no. Astounded one of the most prominent magical families in the whole world had blood adopted an assumed orphan! That was extraordinary! The old man knew better however than to test how much the boy remembered. He had asked late yesterday about the first thing the boy could remember and he burst into tears. He had just thought that Rogue was traumatized by childbirth but evidently it could of been something else. Who were his parents the man wondered to himself. Well only one way to find out.

After giving a reassuring nod to the goblin who moved aside the first page to reveal the next Giuseppe's hands went limp beside him at the sight of what was on the page.

_Legacy/ Inheritance of primary blood._

_Heir of Kassie Black (Deceased) and Giovanni Auditore (Alive)_

_Heir to the most ancient and noble house of Auditore (Paternal)_

_Heir to the most ancient and noble house of Black (Maternal)_

_Heir to the ancient house of Ibn-La'Ahad (Paternal)_

Silence.

Both old assassin and goblin stood still. How. What in Jesus's fuckin name is going on!?

Giuseppe was the most shocked as he looked at the baby. He had always considered himself a good man but this was testing him. A son of his most hated enemy sat before him. Granted that son was gazing at the paper with his fingers in his mouth but still. Enemy.

With experience he turned on his eagle vision on instinct when he learned of a threat. The boy still glowed gold and blue with only a small speck of blood red on his forehead.

After the initial shock had called the assassin began to think rationally. Giovanni was a monster yes, but he would never love a bastard child. And it would make sense seeing as what the child had acted so strangely yesterday. After bursting into sobs he had mentioned a bad man a few times he then stopped and nothing else was said about it.

Giuseppe stopped. He had to stop. Here was a boy no doubt hated by his father, a smart intelligent kind boy with pure assassin blood. This boy could change his family name back to its former glory, the final assassin.

After this brief mental argument Giuseppe nodded stiffly, at the passive goblin. Understanding immediately his choice to keep the boy regardless of his heritage he pressed on to the next sheet.

_Properties of both blood:_

_Auditore Manor, Florence, Italy_

_Auditore House, Rome, Italy_

_Auditore Villa, Sienna, Italy_

_Auditore Farm, South Africa, Africa_

_Potter Manor, Berkshire, England_

_Potter Hollow, New Zealand_

_Black Manor, London, England_

_Kenway House, Outside Havana, Cuba_

_Gryffindor Manor, Wales, United Kingdom_

_Ravenclaw Castle, the Peak District, England_

_Ravenclaw Manor, Sydney, Australia_

_Smaller__ properties:_

_Auditore:_

_Barcelona, Spain_

_Frankfurt, Germany_

_Tokyo, Japan_

_Tibet, Tibet (Not getting into this)_

_Potter:_

_Cairo, Egypt_

_Manhattan, New York, USA_

_Dubai, UAE_

_London, England_

_Black:_

_Rio, Brazil_

_Marrakech, Morroco_

As was getting to common the two stared at each other in shock before taking a few seconds to calibrate and then move into action.

"Wow," Giuseppe managed before a sharp laugh came from the goblin opposite him. "Is that all the sheets cause I need a minute,... Or four decades to understand all of this."

Another laugh from the goblin, "Yes assassin that is all, when the boy comes of age at 14 in the case of magical inheritance he will receive full details of his accounts and stocks."

"Well then I believe that concludes our business master." The Assassin replied and picked up the increasingly tired and droopy boy from the table.

"Indeed it does Assassin, I hope you get over all trials (Eyeing the baby) easily and have time to process what has happened here today, I do not believe that the creed will be saved but this boy could let them go out in a blaze of glory and dead Templars. Safety and peace Assassin." The goblin now looked sad and sighed a little on the last syllable of his sentence

Giuseppe nodded, opened the door with baby in arms, "Safety and peace my friend," he said as he left the old goblin that was not without emotion.

When both boy and man got home after a day of revelations the sun was dipping below the vineyards and casting a final arc of light across Florence. Both males immediately fell asleep in the dappling light each haunted by the events of the day. Sleep was a welcome escape.

All night the goblin nation worked through cold and hot to find out how a child could generate it's own power. Even after hours there was no avail and the nation too fell into sleep.

**Please review on this story have a great day.**


	8. Chapter 8: History

**Hi guys hope you enjoy this chapter and my little version of Assassin's history that should probably be read. Sorry if the details are a little off but ive only played Black flag completely and bits of others but the details are a bit iffy but please enjoy. But see if you can spot any Wizarding links ;)**

The old Assassin has seen many a strange event in his life, but a child of Giovanni Auditore was a pretty damn strange one. He thought all night as he lay awake and in that rational reflection period all feelings of hesitation fled his mind when it came to the boy, after all the last Assassin would have to be pretty fuckin spectacular. As he thought along this mental trail it led straight to the issue of the magical bonds that lay on the child before him.

To remove them he would wait for the boys seventh birthday where he could use some of his own magic, a ritual circle and the boys stable body to remove the bonds. He was still angry that he forgot in all his excitement to address the goblin on those topics but he was getting on in years and one could not always be expected to be immune to surprises.

Turns out sleep was not the most welcoming escape for the young boy either who toiled and fought his way through nightmares filled with death, screaming, green light and for some reason small stray dogs. When day broke the child did as well and he bolted upright to attention spring himself from the wretched fantasy that had ensnared him. Sunlight flitted through the window of the small room and birds cried out in triumph at surviving the night, a truly glorious think to help wash nightmares and it's horrors away.

Slowly and quietly Rogue weaved though the cream halls until he stopped on the wall by the living room, for on it lay the object he had been so drawn to yesterday. The bladed leather arm bracers that seemed to shine with a golden light dimly. So entranced the child was at such weapons that he stayed there staring at every inch of them for a while not moving just taking them in.

"Beautiful are they not?" came a voice behind him, such a sudden noise caused the child to jump and turn to face his newest guardian. "They belong to you more than me now child," Giuseppe said, "An Assassin's weapon from the renaissance that took place right here in Florence hundreds of years ago. A man named Ezio Auditore wore these, and made bloody good use of then too if you don't mind me saying. He was your ancestor you know, an assassin."

Rogue stared up at the man, these were his? How?

"How do these belong to me? I don't remember Mummy or Daddy having them?" asked the inquisitive boy.

Giuseppe sighed, this was going to hurt, so he began gently. "Well my boy, yesterday we discovered that you are a child of Lily and James Potter, but also of a member of the house of black. A woman. And a man named Giovanni Auditore. You are all of their child."

The light in the boys eyes glimmered curiously and cautiously. Swallowing slightly he said, voice trembling, "I remember. She. She was the screaming woman at the start wasn't she, the black lady, she was so angry at me. And then that man.. was he the evil man that killed her? Am I like them?"

Giuseppe's heart clenched but relaxed at the relief that the boy would not respect his father or god forbid want to be him, "You are their son but you are not like them, remember Lily and James, the Potters you are a Potter as much as a Black or an Auditore. Do not be ashamed of your name, the Auditore line was corrupted yes, but Ezio was a great man. You are the last of your line besides Giovanni you could do your name proud, it's a strong name."

Hearing this strengthened the Auditore's thirst and desire for revenge against his biological father, the man who took his actual mother (whom he cared very little about) and tried to kill him at his most helpless, anyone that killed babies was a dead man in the boys eyes.

"Auditore was once a strong good family, a good name?" It was a questioning glance to the older man that got a quick response, "Yes Ezio was a hero and freed many people so that they could live free as a bird in the morning sky."

Freedom, that very word struck the boy and he knew instantly that he wanted it, craved it. The freedom to do whatever you want whenever you can. That was living, that's what his mum wanted for him, freedom. But he could never be free if there were those that sought to restrict freedom to restrict him. His father Giovanni, the pale man that took his family and the old strange man, Dumbledore... he thought it was a man who had gotten Giuseppe so angry yesterday. He would stop them all. So he and everyone else could be free.

Giuseppe was not fool he could see the glint of light in the boys eyes at the thought of living free. He was a perfect natural born Assassin. To confirm it he asked, "Do you like freedom, I am the last of a group that fights for freedom by living free and destroying those that which to control us, or the Templars."

Rogue nodded eagerly the fought of helping other whilst being free himself was so appealing to the child, he could fight back against his father and help those who couldn't help themselves. He could make his mother and father proud.

Giuseppe sent the child outside to sit in the summer sun by the breakfast table, whilst he made a coffee for him and brought out some fruit, rolls and honey for the boy.

As he met Rogue who was sat in a conjured high chair. (AN: Rogue is capable of incredibly advance intellectual feats but keep in mind that he's still a baby physically.) He prepared himself for a long stay in this seat and asked the boy permission to start his story. After an exited nod he began

"Now Rogue for centuries there has been a war brewing and clashing on between two sides, the Assassins who fight for freedom and order through it and the Templars who strive to enslave every man into order and subservience with only them as the ruling class. It is a long tale and please hold your questions for after."

"Many years ago this war started many miles from this place, different reports say different things but I believe that the first assassin and Templar fight began in ancient Greece during the great war between Athens and Sparta. A mercenary, a person that fights for money called Kassandra Othello fought on both sides of this war. As she journeyed across Greece she fought against a mysterious order that she eventually managed to defeat. I believe them to be the first remnants of the order of the Templars and her as the first of the Assassin's brotherhood. She went on and fought many a beast in Greece and even thought against the dark wizard Herpo the foul. A man that bred the first Basilisks."

"Then after her time was up about 300 years later in Egypt a man called Bayek of Siwa who was a medjay, a kind of elite policeman in Egypt, fought with his wife Aya of Siwa against the Order of the Ancients. These people fought for years and the Order who were early Templars strove to control all people and remove all free will soon lost and were defeated by the two. Bayek and Aya founded the hidden ones the first true Assassins who used the hidden blade, a blade which has been used by our people ever since. From that point in time onwards the war had officially begun."

"For centuries after that the hidden ones tried to spread their ideals across the world yet were met with very limited success, the hidden ones were almost wiped of the surface of the planet many times. However they did manage to get some progress in the middle East where the Levantine brotherhood was one of the survivors and thrived during the third crusade. At this point in time you first ancestor Assassin was born, Altaïr Ibn-LaʼAhad. Altair was possibly one of the most important Assassins of all time. He fought the Templars and even his own mentor who was a hidden Templar. He rose the ranks quickly after a brief period of exile and spread the teachings of the assassin across the known world. It is to him that we give thanks for none of our brotherhood would still exist. But with the Assassin's teachings came the Templar order who advanced far more quickly and vigorously than us. The creed spread to every cranny of the planet thanks to Altaïr. He is a noble ancestor."

"After many years the brotherhood had multiplied to every corner of the world, and our next chapter of the creeds history starts right here in Florence where a young Italian noble named Ezio Auditore watches his Assassin brother and father hang for their crimes as Assassins. Tortured by this he took his mother and sister and left to his uncle Mario's villa where he would be trained by Mario as an assassin. Times during the Italian Renaissance were hard for the creed as the Borgia family had Italy under an iron fist, Ezio changed all of that, he killed many Borgia allies across Italy and unified the country before returning to Florence. In his later years he travelled to find the library of Altaïr and some believe that he found it. As do I. He met a woman there named Sofia and they came back to Italy to retire, he trained a young assassin named Shao Jun and then died with two children at the age of 65."

"Now I wish I could say that is where your ancestors history ends but alas after his death his wife re-married a filthy Templar of all the people and ever since their family line of the Auditore's had been corrupted by them. A true loss indeed for the people of Italy and all assassins. All the family has been Templars since as I have said but no longer. Giovanni Auditore will never have more children now as he is too paranoid and will kill any that claims to be his, so you the last of the Auditore line are an assassin."

" Years further a young Welshman Edward Kenway killed an assassin called Duncan Warpole who intended to betray the order. In trying to make some extra money. From there he was dragged into the ancient war and was hunted by Templars on the Carribbean seas. He became a pirate on his ship called the Jackdaw, he ruled the seas for years and captured towns and forts in the name of money and freedom. Slowly as he searches for the illusive observatory of legend he becomes less and less of a greedy man and more of an assassin. After the death of a close asassin freind of his he becomes an assassin and fights for freedom aboard his ship. After finding out he has a young daughter he then leaves for England and becomes the Mentor of its Brotherhood there. He father's a son called Hatham Kenway, but before he could grow old he was killed by mercenaries. Hatham is adopted by Templars and becomes the grand master in the American Colonies."

"It was about this time that the Assassin Brotherhood almost completely became a magical brotherhood because of the effort of Ezio all those years ago, it took time for everyone who joins was chosen magical. In fact most great Assassins were actually magical and bloody good at it too."

"Suddenly Hatham is then killed by his son Connor Kenway (not spelling the other name) who is an assassin born into a native American tribe. Connor goes on to help George Washington defeat the British and gain independence for America. He then tries to build up the American Brotherhood as it was decimated by Hatham and a assassin turned Templar Shay Cormac. He was largely unsuccessful and the last American creed fell a few years ago along with the last heirs to the Kenway line."

" The French Revolution was and probably still is one of the finest triumphs of the creed, and although it is dotted with mediocre assassins (sorry Arno fans but its the hard truth, he wasn't the best assassin) they managed to stir up such a lust for freedom that the very people of France donned their hoods and fought tooth and nail for their liberty."

"The next revolution that was a cornerstone of our history is the industrial revolution in London. Steam power was created and the world developed like never before. Amongst all the chaos two sides became clear. As usual the Assassin's and the Templars. A pair of twins Evie and Jacob Frye fought against them as usual and prevailed, pretty much clearing London of Templar influence. Upon retirement after Evie and Jacob reunited in London both settled down in the magical and No- Maj world. They were perhaps the last burst of assassin greatness before WW1 which hurt and cost out order deeply and WW2 which finished us off."

"We fought well again in WW1 but it was the issue that with trench warfare more men are injured and killed by bullets, gas and bombs despite how well they may be trained. Assassins from all corners of the world kept forward and joined the war via trenches, in which huge numbers of them were killed. Those that went on assassination missions were largely unsuccessful. The Russian brotherhood then had the revolution on their hands which they never recovered from and everything went to hell."

"WW2 was a horror show, the Templars Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin used concentration camps to kill mass numbers of Jews and assassin sympathisers and before the war had even started, Hitler had ordered Churchill have vast numbers of assassins across the globe killed or he would start another world war, which no one wanted. Churchill obliged but the war still started. Hitler and Stalin fell into discord after Hitler tried to seize Stalin's power and they fought against each other from that point on. Though both still managed to wipe out assassins through the world."

"If this was not bad enough Creed was split in numbers because a little over a third went into the magical world to subtlety fight Grindelwald, this did not go well at all and the Creed lost large amounts of good men through no fault of their own. With the rise of Communism it looked like the end of the assassins who fought so hard to be free. My grand father fought during this time as a solider during the cold war and tried his best to help the cause. Sadly it only got him killed."

"Today the Creed ends with me and you, we may never recover and to be honest I don't see how. The last branch of assassins who were mere shadows of the past were wiped out a few years ago. A man by the name of Desmond Miles who held the titles you hold was killed under mysterious circumstances and his Creed was slaughtered soon after. I saw hope in a boy he sired at a young age but alas it was sadly a still born."

"Your biological father Giovanni was the chess master behind this defeat and is today the most powerful man on earth. He holds numerous titles, a place on the world security council which he uses to control S.H.I.E.L.D and is nigh invincible with a blade. To know that he lives only miles away and that he still breathes is a huge burden but I nor my recent predecessors could take him. I only hope that one day you can."

As Giuseppe talked the atmosphere became more sombre by the second. Rogue was permanently filing each word away in his mind as he was too young to process all of what had been said. He was entranced by the Creeds amazing history and devastated by what they became. It was a hard day. The tale finished after about 1 hours and both boy and assassin had no idea how to continue the day.

Rogue was bursting with curiosity though and as Giuseppe looked over at him Rogue stared right back he saw the glint and thirst for knowledge in his eyes.

The assassin laughed, "Ask child I'm not getting any younger!" he chided as he managed to remove himself of painful nostalgia.

"How as you going to train me?" Rogue asked, the excitement dripping from his voice.

Giuseppe tilted his head before replying, "You are unlike any boy I have ever met and the thought of teaching you is an interesting one. Your perfect memory will completely defy any need for repetition of the intellectual side even if you don't understand what I am telling you now in the future you will recall it completely, this means that we can begin our lessons immediately. I believe I will teach you our history in depth, our creed and values, all the school subjects that I can with help from books and such and as many languages as I can cram into your head. The first call of duty however is to teach you Italian as I am too old to speak English constantly."

"Magic and physical training shall begin later when your body has begun to develop, I will teach you stealth and basic parkour at around four years with simple rolls and basic techniques. I will teach you magical history and theory as alongside you normal school subjects, but we shall not start magic properly until your bond can be released at seven."

"And fighting?" the boy asked eagerly keen to learn as his ancestors did.

"Fighting shall begin upon your 5th birthday with basic martial arts technique and on your sixth we shall start with blade less weapons and you shall see what you like."

Rogue was the happiest he had been since his parents were alive. He was going to be an assassin!

And on that day as both old and young assassins sat down and begun to talk about the Creed and it's origins the death warrant on all Templar heads was signed.

**Here it is hope you enjoyed.**

**Please Review**

**Thanks,**

**Rogue Auditore**


	9. Chapter 9: Knives and Magic

**Sorry for the wait**

The winding streets of Florence were hot and frothing with life. It was usual for the streets to be packed with tourists from all the corners of the world, tourists that only saw the small portion of that country through their phones as they avidly snapped pictures to enjoy later whilst they missed out on the present. That was why that street was unusual.

Only the locals moved about their daily jobs and chores. Vendors sold fruit whilst sheltering from the midday sun. In most cities if you can go either deep enough or far out enough the tourist population drops and locals can be allowed to live, this was one such place on the subtle outskirts of the buzzing city. The summer sun scorched as the day went on and all the vendors and shoppers left for shade, solice and a short siesta.

Not a soul moved in the street except a young boy that appeared to be about 10 years old. This boy was tall with tanned sun baked Italian skin, light brown hair and startling golden green eyes. A striking scar on his head shaped as a lightning bold drew looks in the street. What defined him as older was his slightly defined body shape which was free of any baby fat, unbeknownst to those that didn't know him (which was most people) he was actually a six year old. A very exited six year old that is. It is not every day that you are allowed to begin your weapons training for the first time.

This child was Rogue Auditore who had lived with his mentor for the last five years. Said five years had been a huge challenge for both master and pupil as neither was used to being told what to do and both were quite strong personalities. That aside though because Rogue has loved every second of it. His mentor had taught him Italian at first along with all his school subjects and Creed beliefs. He had excelled and finished all the material that Giuseppe had set out for him to learn over nine years in two and a half. He was learned in all school subjects to a stage of about a 16 year old at school and was fluent in Italian, Spanish, Arabic (Creed must), Chinese and Japanese. All he had to do in these languages was to listen to the rules once and read through that languages dictionary and he was virtually fluent after a little practice.

But after finishing all his course work Giuseppe had set to teaching him how to exercise properly, basic magical instruction on theory and history and the basic assassin's skills such as stealth and free running (which he was very good at) and how to unlock his eagle vision. That task was actually how he ended up in the middle of Florence as Giuseppe set him the task of setting a random target with eagle vision and following that person undetected in a crowded area. As his target had left for an afternoon nap he had set off home for his first weapons training. He had martial arts and techniques drilled into him but to be able to use the tools of the trade was a massive step up for the boy. The walk back home was a long one especially in the hot midday sun but fuelled by excitement and stamina Rogue managed to get to the villa in about an hour.

Walking through Florence was a peaceful time to reflect and to remember for the boy. Over the last few years he had lived in happiness and content, Giuseppe had indeed grown to love him and he had grown to love Giuseppe. He was still haunted at night by looming figures waiting for him in the night, and the night he lost his parents but as time went on he grew to love their memory and found hope that wherever they were they were together and waiting for him.

Soon he reached the villa and walked through the cool stone halls until he reached the patio on the other side of the house. He could of gone straight back but he loved to look and study Ezio's hidden blades on the wall. Something about them struck a chord of both loss and pride within him. He desperately wanted to try them on but Giuseppe would only allow him to use them when he was at least 10 years old. But despite the wait he loved to see them, even if he could remember what it smelt like the last time he walked past them or how many breaths he took when he was last staring at them he still loves to see his proud heritage still as beautiful as the day it was made.

Grudgingly excited he left the blades and walked onto the patio. On the green lawn he Giuseppe setting out an array of completely black weapons, these were the bladeless trial weapons that he had been hoping to use. Rogue leaped into the old man's line of vision and the assassin laughed.

"I had a feeling you would hurry back child, now stand by the row there. No time to lose"

Rogue obeyed and stood by the large row of various sword types he recognised Katanas, Broadswords, Axes among others from the pile. Each as black as hell's nights. The array of weapons was filled with blades but lacked any bows, guns or crossbows this was because Giuseppe had been teaching Rogue archery for years and both had decided to let him use a bow as a main projectile with guns (which they used under a silencing spell) as a back up. He was amazing with a boy and nailed dead centre every time.

"Okay Rogue," Giuseppe instructed, "You will now be allowed to take any weapons that you dislike or are uncomfortable with out of the pile and we will narrow down the search. Most assassins have about 3 main weapons including the hidden blade. Personally I think you should choose around 4 different types including a bow and a hidden blade but also be proficient in any other weapons that you may be forced to use in a combat life or death situation."

Rogue nodded to the man and prepared himself to choose which weapons he was most comfortable with. Within ten minutes the pile was drastically shorter as Rogue had removed most heavy and slow to wield weapons like battle axes or hammers. The broadsword and two handed swords were also removed although with practice he could see himself using a heavier sword. He was also very proficient with daggers but decided to remove them as well. In the end Rogue decided to just keep a few on his person in case the need ever arose.

Soon the pile was left with 3 different blades on, all three were completely different but very effective weapons, in the pile there was two assassin tomahawks just like those used by Connor Kenway and a hooked khopesh Rogue loved the khopesh because of its dual uses as a hook to bring enemies closer (he could just imagine using it with a hidden blade) and it's strength in the swing it builds making it similar to a lightweight axe and sword. Both, Giuseppe was quick to note were excellent weapons that were suited to different jobs.

The tomahawks were ideal for taking down large numbers of people in close capacity and the khopesh could be used in one on one duels and rapid high strength assassinations. Both brilliant tools of death.

Giuseppe nodded at Rogue slowly, "You have chosen your weapons my boy, now finnaly the time has come for you to use them. Over the next year or so we will get you accustomed to using all types of them."

...

A few weeks later Rogue was bloody tired, Giuseppe was pushing him hard, very very hard. He was forced to sleep with the sun and rise when it first peeked it's head over the crystal blue sky. At the crack of dawn he ran through the woods for 1 or so hours until he completed his circuit through copses of Mediterranean trees and through vineyards that smelt of rich succulent grapes. When he got back exhausted he would have a quick shower and sit staring at the city of Florence and the Duomo until his Mentor awoke. He didn't read or do anything at all really during this time except stare and lock the city away in his memory with brutal force. He knew every nook and cranny of Florence by now as on Fridays Giuseppe would treat him by allowing him to pick any traveller on their way to Florence and he would then follow and watch them go about their business. He used to get caught every now and then but practice makes perfect and he could meld with any crowd or lurk in any shadow. It was an enjoyable task to watch and interact as an assassin of old would have done.

When he finally managed to pull his eyes away from the city and his mentor was up they would eat together on the balcony facing Florence or the patio facing the garden. They would eat honey with buns and bread with hearty servings of mango, watermelon and other exotic fruits that caught the assassins' eyes.

Then mentor and student would go through basic exercises and sparring matches to warm up for the no doubt brutality of what was to come. That brutality came in the form of their duels that happened everyday of the week except Sunday. Giuseppe always won these as he had years and years of experience but sometimes Rogue came very close to winning. The blunted black blades were charmed on the would be bladed side that they were covered in an almost red paint like liquid. It was to help the assassins so that when hit they could see how dead they would be.

Those sessions were fast and deadly usually causing large amounts of bruising for both parties, they would use a large variety of weapons on one another and try to twist the area around them to their own advantage. No mercy would be shown from either party. The fights lasted most of the day and the length and regularity of them helped Rogue develop at a rapid pace. The aftermath of the battles left both exhausted but happy. When the adrenaline began to die down Giuseppe would take a small shot of lemoncello to relax his mind as he put it, he also allowed Rogue a small sip on a teaspoon.

After this the sun usually began to set and they would feast to quench their thirst and to tame their hunger. Sometimes tagliatelle was on the menu or other times it was pizza with mozzarella. It was really just anything that they could make at the time. Afterwards both would rest and wash before settling in the lounge (living room) to read peacefully before sleep. Rogue could choose any books he wanted to read given that he had at least two in foreign languages, at this time he had read the count of Monte cristo in Arabic which was a massive yet exciting challenge and a vast array of interesting works by Chinese, Japanese and many other eastern authors such as the art of war in its original Chinese.

Giuseppe had also forced him to read the bible, the Qur'an and the Torah alongside many other religious works of many different religions. Whilst neither person was religious Giuseppe always told Rogue that a basis in how others lived and what they lived by could one day save his life. The only issue was that Giuseppe had forced Rogue to read the bible in Latin, the Torah in Hebrew and the Qur'an in Arabic meaning that he had to stumble through them at a slow pace because he was learning new languages along with it. But at the end of it he was glad for the knowledge and the foresight.

On weekend nights or those rare occasions when it began to heavily rain outside they would light the small fireplace alight and Giuseppe would tell Rogue stories and tales from across the world. Rogue's favourites were, Alibaba and the forty thieves (or anything from one thousand and one nights) and various myths and legends from across the world, ranging from ancient Greece, to Rome, Egypt, Japan, China, the middle East or south America. All were fascinating to hear and Rogue listened hard. The intricacies in some of the stories were so human, so real that Rogue sometimes felt that he was listening to fact and not fiction.

Sundays were really the only true break either party would have and they welcomed it with own arms. Giuseppe would allow himself to have a glass of wine with every meal and would sleep away the midday heat. A relaxing way to spend the day indeed.

Rogue on the other hand was allowed a small glass of wine during the evening and a dessert at both lunch and tea, his favourite was Lemon meringue but sometimes panna cotta and tiramisu hit the spot. Unlike Giuseppe he would not sleep but instead take a slow walk for a few hours, it was this time that he loved as it was a peaceful space to relax and he could take out his mother's final gift to him and listen to her, now his music. On especially how days he would strip to his trousers and leap into a small lake near a vineyard to cool off and swim the afternoon away.

On rare occasions Giuseppe would take himself and Rogue to the retta magica the Italian centre of magic to shop and take in magical life.

With weapons training the largest alteration to the pairs schedule time passed quickly for the pair and with that passing of time Giuseppe's potion ingredient stock ran dry and it was time for another visit to the retta magica. Giuseppe had told Rogue that his potion ingredient stock had run out and that it meant that both would get to go to retta magica, needless to say Rogue was practically vibrating at the news. He never got to see the magical world because of how his mentor tried to avoid using magic in any situation.

Soon the day arrived after much pestering and jumping from the smaller assassin, he couldn't wait to see and go back to Italy's magical core. On that particular morning Giuseppe decided to use his magic and took Rogue's hand before apperating into the small alter that stood in the centre of the wizarding bank of Florence. Rogue looked around with wonder, he remembered the pictures and the chandelier but to see it again was magnificent. Memories could just not give this place justice.

As he stared around him he felt a strong hand on his shoulder that was moving him to a far wall opposite the arch that he had passed through years ago. Giuseppe lead Rogue to a smaller less noticeable door that stood clear of any goblin tellers.

As the door got closer though it appeared increasingly normal, it was a thick door with heavy iron stud around the outside but apart from that was relatively normal.

What however was definitely not normal though was that when Giussepe hefted the door open Rogue's senses were overwhelmed by colour and sound. What was structurally a huge street that streched for a whole mile was covered and filled with life and magic, fireworks of every colour and shape were launched whizzing into the air disappearing with only a quiet pop as not to disturb shoppers.

The renaissance style arches that dotted the sides of the street contained some small boutiques with the larger ones taking up several archways and using them as entrances and windows. Numerous small stalls lined between the tall arches each stall selling something completely different. Some sold fireworks, others books and stationary, confectionery whilst one or two were set up as small bars and wine stalls.

Giuseppe could just smile warmly as his young companion walked alongside him open mouthed at the road. This was not even the first time he had seen the street in all its glory but it was certainly a fresh experience and memory to witness it again. After much admiring the assassins reached a large piazza in the centre of the street. In it stood a large fountain depicting a similar image to the one that was described to be on the walls of the bank. Around the edge were many small restaurants and shops, the general atmosphere here was electric men and women buzzed with energy and excitement, fuelled by the delicious fumes of red wine and cooking tomatoes, whether they be for pizza or bolognese.

"Well," Giussepe started gesturing at a small restaurant that practically oozed mouth watering pleasures, "Lets re-fuel ourselves and get out of this damned heat shall we?"

**Thanks so much to those thay reviewed it made a huge difference and dont be afraid to again, whether it concerns questions or corrections I would be happy to hear outside opinions. Thank you so much.**

**PLEASE REVIEW**


	10. Chapter 10: Where Eagle's Dare

**Sorry for the wait been doing stuff for the last few weeks but its finally finished. (And one hell if a chapter as well) And im ready to write. Next chapter and we finally get into stage three! Please REVIEW and tell me what you think!**

The proverbial refuelling was over quickly and the street began to look even more interesting to explore and shop. Giuseppe needed to get himself some potion stock and a new iron cauldron for the tougher potions that could potentially burn a massive hole in the floor. To do this he wanted some browsing time alone and gave Rogue 50 galleons spending money, a lot to be sure but Giuseppe was sure it would be just to top up their mini library.

The street was getting hotter by the time the two parted ways agreeing to meet again in three hours where they had eaten. As the heat began to get unshakable shoppers started to trickle home to escape the heat, just like in the no Maj world the wizarding world needed their siestas. The only thing that was different compared to the no Maj world however was that the shops remained open for all those tougher type shoppers. Cooling charms were used liberally to keep the workers and the products in selling condition.

One of those stated tough shoppers was no one else but Rogue who walked slowly down the nigh barren street itching his forehead subtlety, glamours for scars were bloody uncomfortable but alas no one could recognise him or the attention would become so great that they would need to move away from Florence. The very thought that frightened him.

He took his time at a few shops and stalls asking about prices and stock of certain books and trinkets but had not seen anything unique. He had when he was a few years younger scoured many magical and non magical history books for mention of the assassins just to see if anyone else knew of the creeds existence.

The answer was a firm no as in history people don't seem to think that recording events taking place with hooded assailants was a good way to proclaim sanity. However Giuseppe had been quick to remind him that some of the older entities in the world would be able to recognise the assassins as in WW2 they did not get eliminated without a fight, not to mention how they had shaped history but whatever.

But it was still curious to Rogue that one of the greatest evil wizards of all time Herpo the foul was literally killed by a mercenary Spartan yet no one seemed to know or record anything about it, to ease his confusion he just accepted that wizards were inherently lazy and would probably not notice a dark lord until he was cursing in their faces.

Although he had to admit In Italy and across the world the wizarding people were rather normal and could develop socially and magically at a normal healthy pace as opposed to the British magical world which was festering in arrogance, corruption and laziness. Safe to say all other wizarding nations hated England's guts. Due to the corruption, arrogance and weirdly dementors which had been voted across the world globally to kill each one as they were filthy and hard to contain, Britain had relented and decided to use them around people, something every other nation detested.

(Killing a dementor is relatively easy you just had to keep them in an incredibly happy place for thirteen hours and they would implode into pure carbon dust. Some locations used were various theme parks around the world and festivals where a dementor could be safely stored a few meters underground)

As Rogue's mind expanded to think out of his own small scale queries about the world his feet had gathered him and were heading towards the end of the street slowly, as he regained conscious movement he decided to continue and see what the far end of the street was like as he had only seen the first three quarters from the entrance and floo dock to just past the square.

As he walked it seemed to him that the far end of the street slowly deteriorated in quality of shops and stalls the further they were from the main entrance and the piazza. Whilst the shops themselves lost their lustre the architecture and bones that the street was built on did not change, that was however until he reached the very far end of the wide street. The pillars seemed to chip on the far wall and shadows seemed longer here the aspects in itself was almost magical as you could see the far end of the street barely from the piazza and it looked the exact same, very odd.

Seeking answers Rogue activated his Eagle Vision subtly from a small shadow in-between a small apothecary and a rum stall. What he saw was confusing to say the least.

All the people here still glowed the white of innocents but some had tiny dabbles of red that told of how they were safe until provoked, the two brightest red signatures however came from two burly looking men that stood by a glowing dim golden door. A dim purple aura around the men and door also told of some type of ward, and even to Rogue's relatively untrained eye he could tell it was a sort of detector that must be seeking to prevent a person carrying that specific object with them into wherever that door lead.

Curiosity won the small boy over as he stared at the door and the desperation to explore overcame his logical thinking. This mind set of blank curiosity quickly formed a plan in his mind to get behind the door, he had no items of specific value or magical importance on him except his mother's Walkman so he should be able to get through the ward but the two men would be a problem.

But as Giuseppe had taught him simplicity was usually the best way to appear invisible so he would try and use one of the older tricks in the thousand year old assassin book, after all what drives all men.

Sneaking quickly through the shadows using barrels and stalls for cover he soon leant against the wall on which the door was placed. Upon getting closer he could see how huge the men were and how badly this could go wrong. But hey the boy didn't particularly care at that point in time. As he stopped behind a barrel that was nearest the door he felt with a small shock the cool water like texture of the ward pass over him. Luckily it seemed to find no fault on his person and didn't activate, which would probably get him caught.

When his small gamble had paid off he using one hand grabbed a small barrel that stood nearby that he had seen earlier and using a knife he had hidden in his boot opened it carefully, the contents didn't surprise him as a waft of red wine met his nostrils, sometimes stereotypes helped after all.

He re sealed the wine and cut a small hole in the upward end of it leaving it open. Then as quick as a flash he flung a few galleons from the shadows and they scattered loudly on the floor, now if the guards had not been slightly dosing in the heat a more crafty plan would be necessary as they would have seen where the coins came from but fuck human nature was bloody helpful.

When the burly guards heard the scattering of coins they jolted awake and looked for the perpetrator in sharp glances, seeing only golden galleons clearly tickled the men's fancy as they swiftly moved forward to pick them up -being a guard couldn't of paid well- the lunge was what the crafty assassin in training was looking for and pushed his small barrel that was only about a foot and a half long over the one he was hiding behind and watched as it rolled down to where the coins lay. When the guards saw it they assumed they had knocked it over in their rush and ignored it in favour of the coins but quickly turned their attention back to it when it had started leaking over the cobbles. The two distractions of gold and cleaning up wine gave Rogue a small window to leap from the barrel and rush through the door as the man got their wands from their pockets to clean the mess.

After cleaning the wine and grabbing the galleons the guards turned around and saw the door in the same position as they had left it. What they did not know was that on the other side of the door a young British Italian boy looked around at the small dingy street that stood before him, people here glowed the same dull red as those outside but the red was slightly more common and pronounced in all those that walked there.

Rogue was not totally sure where he was but instantly knew of the type of place he was entering. By the aggressive looking shoppers and emo decor it was pretty obvious that he was in a black market Street that sold slightly more, eh, questionable goods both morally and legally.

Strangely he did not feel threatened by the change of scenery or the people around him but he did feel the grasp of caution and natural survival gut instinct flood through him. He had to keep out of sight, after all a young child in no Maj clothing could be seen as a scout for the authorities or an interesting person to mug. Neither of which attracted him very much.

But with the grasp of the illegal nature of the place he was walking he understood that the wards were probably charmed to alert the guards of any Auror medallions( small medallions that Aurors keep on their person to act as a tracker and a health minister, unfortunately for the Auror department in Italy said medallions give off a distinct magical signature.)/ wand signatures to protect the street. An ingenious plan if he said so himself.

Once he deactivated his eagle vision he slipped into the shadows before anyone could notice him, the trick to this was silent moving, saying in the shadows and most importantly acting like you belong.

The silence and shadows bit were relatively easy but a boy in dark gray chinos and a light blue shirt were not the most discreet clothes, especially in the wizarding world, to counter this he snuck quickly over to a small grimy stall that sold what looked to be frogspawn (twelve galleons per scoop said otherwise about the nature of the substance) and quickly snatched a ragged black cloth that hung over the base of the stall and ran off through the crowd whilst throwing it over his head. The old buck toothed witch manning the stall said a few unsavoury words in Italian that should not be repeated as she lost sight of the thief among the crowd.

Rogue congratulated himself on his success as he now appeared to be a relatively short figure donned in a long black hooded cloak, which was an almost textbook appearance in the street with many of the shorter hunch backs (which there were many) wearing the same thing. As he was now out of any immediate danger he allowed himself to look around at the scene he stood in properly. The bones of marble that stood in the less evil looking street were the same here except the key difference of what appeared to be hundreds of years of unsanitary cleaning habits and generations of spiders. It was so hazy with the fumes coming off questionable looking cauldrons and out of tall ragged chimneys that the sunlight seemed to falter and barley reached the street. More shadows to lurk in WHOO! Rogue could only compare the street to a dirtier Victorian street in the slums of London, and that was including the mass amounts of crime, death, disease and shit on the floor.

All in all he had found Florence's shit hole.

He moved down the street at a crabs scuttle trying to fit in, all the shops here we're so much more interesting than the ones in the main piazza, screw brooms he would rather have a dragon egg or a draught of living death! The only thing that he avoided looking at was the few brothels that lined the streets at regular intervals, gross. The leering faces of the cheap prostitutes lined every corner but he managed to escape their radar and keep a low profile.

He moved deeper and deeper into the market until he reached a particularly interesting looking shop, there was nothing outwardly interesting about it that is but the general vibe of the shop and how it seemed to sink into the wall it was built on intrigued him. Silently and without stopping he moved to the door and turned the wooden handle with a loud creak that would've drawn attention if not for the loud fight between two men trying to win over a particularly ugly prostitute. They had seemed to forget their 'wizard supremacy' and were beating the Jesus out of each other. Fists and all.

Rogue paid little attention to the brawl as he leant into the shop and felt the excitement flow through him due to the inside of the shop looking infinitely more exciting than the front. Books covered every millimetre of the shop that wasn't filled with cages for various animals and other strange artefacts that all looked infinitely more dangerous than anything else he had seen in the market.

On some he could make out Egyptian hieroglyphics and on others the jagged lines of ancient Germanic languages long forgotten. He noticed in seconds that none of the objects around him has any sign of Asian decent which fitted into Giuseppe's teachings of the Asian magical world keeping its secrets close to heart, despite being a relatively active player in international magical politics.

With a directed flash of Eagle vison at the artefacts he noticed that many were purely for novelty and few if any actually worked, yet the ones that did worked very very well. Well enough for him to actually be here was like pissing on the face of the Italian political magical elite. So yes definitely illegal.

Intrigued Rogue drew himself into the shop between tall bookcases and rows of actual eyes which disappeared now and again only to reappear seconds later in the same place. He drew to a stop abruptly however when he saw a small cage that was squeezed between a hand of glory and a snake skeleton, was that a.?.. No way, not possible... The boy leant in to get a closer look at the inhabitant of the cage, yes! Maybe? Rogues mind rolled in torment and confusion as he spotted a dusty plaque beneath the cage, to his surprise it was in Arabic but he could just read what it said: GOLDEN EAGLE, MAGICAL ABILITIES UNKNOWN BUT EXISTING, LAST OF ITS KIND

With more information Rogue seemed to be even more lost a golden eagle? They were not common place to see in a magical community nor did they have any magical affinity naturally so what was one doing here? With acclaimed magical powers? And why did it under eagle vision inspection glow golden.

Then as soon as he thought the words magical powers it triggered his prefect memory.

Mini Flashback

Both novice and mentor assassins sat facing each other cross legged on the green grass of their back garden.

"Why did we all use eagles?" a younger Rogue asked his mentor thinking of Senu and Ikaros.

The memory Giuseppe answered with a tilt of his head, "In the old days during the time of the first hidden ones until the death of Altaïr golden eagles were bred by our creed as the golden eagle had a bond with magic that helped us exponentially.

Few assassins could bond with an eagle and all those that did were forgotten by time but otherwise they would guard our bureaus and alert us of any danger. Only a few existed at any one time and gradually fell into extinction but they were thought to be the ancestors of Ikaros and Senu. And held all the abilities that they held when they bonded to an assassin."

"A familiar bond?" Asked Rogue.

"No a bond that ran far deeper than any familiar has ever had, and for that reason they have always been sacred to us, the assassin eagle an new species that was created by the creed. Our creed."

End Mini flashback

Rogue inhaled sharply, an assassin eagle! It all fitted! The only species of predatory bird with magical prowess (all other birds of prey were known for their large intolerance to magic (with the exception of owls))

That would also explain how the eagle glowed golden as the eagle vision recognised the bird as an assassin bred eagle.

He leant forward to inspect the bird which he could now identify as an assassins' golden eagle chick and frowned as he took in its condition, filthy feathers, dirty water, rotting food! This was no way for such a majestic bird to be treated! No animal should be left like this.

White hot fury rushed through him at the sight and pushed an arm forward to free the bird from the cage.

"Caution." A silky voice shocked Rogue into turning around, "It would not be wise of you to touch that bird."

As Rouge turned he saw who had spoken, before him stood a small man with beady black eyes, a jagged nose, bucked teeth and a hunched back. In simple terms he was one ugly mother fucker, hell screw that no woman would even touch him.

All this rushed through the young boys mind before turning to rage. Which for all those to stupid to understand is not a good response to a creepy old man who looked like the kind of guy not allowed within 1 km of a school.

As the blank rage continued to throb Rogue ripped the black sheet off himself and glowered at the man, "Are you the one responsible for this?" he asked his voice a near whisper.

At being spoken to in such a tone and by one so young shocked and angered the man beyond belief, "Yes," he replied voice gaining force, "I have had that chick since it was born from an egg I brought in an Moroccan market, the useless thing was bloody expensive and hasn't brought in ANY customers. So tell me," his voice smooth again as he drew closer to the boy, " What do you know of it?

Rogue was becoming increasingly aware that this man was a magic user and that he stood no chance if something broke out not to mention uncomfortable at the closeness of the argument. But he just couldn't leave the chick there he felt a need to protect it. So slowly he leant back and drew a small knife he kept horizontally on his lower back.

"Back up you old creep." He growled out clenching his knife.

The shopkeeper looked enraged and drew his wand from his robe pocket, "Now listen here boy!" he took a step closer until both were only millimetres apart, "Your going to do what I sa—"

BANG

The man flew across the room just as Rogue drew the knife. Looking away from the crumpled figure at the other end of the shop the young novice look to where the spell came from to see a very very angry Giuseppe.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!" Giuseppe shouted at Rogue channelling all the worry he had been feeling over his students/ practically sons health. "You could of died in here!"

"I was just looking around!" Rogue countered weakly.

"Does looking around involve dying?" Giuseppe said with a raised eyebrow still fuming but amused and relieved.

"Sometimes?"

"Come on we are going home."

As Giuseppe made for the door he was stopped by the feeling of no movement behind him, turning around he saw Rogue stood holding a small cage that contained a small bundle of fluff. Just as he was about to chastise the young boy Rogue made to move forward with his mentor. He was stopped however by another raised eyebrow and a pointed look.

"We don't steal unnecessarily, we don't need more trouble." Giuseppe said close to biting his students head off.

"No," Rogue pleaded slightly hearing his mentor close to snapping, "Please look we need to save it." And as he said that he gestured to the Arabic plaque.

Still scowling Giuseppe leaned in and carefully read the inscription, you could practically see the dots connecting behind his eyes and how realisation dawned over his features.

"An assassin's Eagle," he breathed out, "the last of a species. I never thought I would see one ... But if we are to take this you must clean it out, nurse it to health and raise it yourself. I'm to old for this bird to help me in my missions but it will be a blessing for you my boy."

And with that rage gave way to a stern but childish excitement, "You are in so much trouble but it's exciting and ironic for the final assassin to have an eagle like the first."

As soon as he said that his lips twitched into a small smile and raised himself to full height, grabbed Rogue's hand and lead him into the street. "Stay close." he whispered quietly as they made their way through the door.

Unsurprisingly walking through the market caused a lot of very confused stared and quietly spoken remarks, it wasn't completely unprecedented because realistically it was rather surprising to see such out of place characters of obvious no Maj origin to be walking through a strictly wizard dark market. And one a young child no less, very strange indeed.

The walk was a silent one an almost walk of shame if you will that mostly included Rogue carrying the cage silently, with Giuseppe shooting him sharp looks daring him to speak all the while graciously and politely avoiding the hungry prostitutes without so much as a glance at their revealing and skimpy clothing.

Rogue despite his apprehension was impressed and proud of how smoothly and his mentor handled the situation whilst keeping a relaxed but powerful atmosphere around himself.

This admiration only grew when they walked thought the entrance/ exit door and the two guards were about to stop and question Giuseppe about the young boy. But he just in one smooth movement took out 3 galleons in each hand and paid both guards. They let them by without question, Giuseppe had not even looked at the men and no one noticed.

It was then Rogue realised deep down how badly he wanted to be like his mentor. To be smooth, suave and incredibly dangerous was a brilliant combination, to be like an assassin.

The pair had to floo home from the floo ports because the no Maj population of Florence would not take very well to the clearly abused animal being walked around in the midday sun. Especially with all the tourists someone was bound to notice something.

When they got home things started off pretty much as expected, Rogue was told off by his mentor for 'seeking danger' and told that he had to clean a neighbours gutter out and take care of her garden for a month.

After the mass telling off Rogue was allowed a quick hug with his mentor and set on the job of making sure his newest friend would survive the night.

Giuseppe ran a few health checks and could make out severe malnutrition and lack of nutrients but nothing disease wise although did lay off the cleaning charms as there were parasites in his (they found out it was a he) dirty fluff and they would need to be removed via tweezers and careful cleaning.

Luckily since the fluff was all downy (meaning it would regrow) and meant only to keep the bird warm they cut it all carefully off and cleaned the chick with warm water until all small ticks and parasites were removed. Then it was a matter of identifying the chick as an actual assassin's eagle (which it was) from a book Giuseppe had which was one of a kind and that it was approximately three weeks old and needed constant warmth (a long lasting warming charm on a fluffy blanket was there just in case) and large amounts of food and nutrition to make up for lost last few weeks.

It was a marvel that the majestic bird was even able to hatch, never mind survive which was a miracle but, it was clearly a survivor like it's young new human companion.

As the evening drew am eventful day to a close bird, mentor and novice were sat out in the warm evening air eating a quiet lunch. Rogue had the large book about his new Eagle propped open (much to his mentors annoyance) and was reading about the bird that was currently sleeping whilst also making up a diet plan with all the right nutritional value that the eagles needed to get in the wild.

After a few minutes of quiet scribbling Giuseppe interrupted the silence with a question that had been on both their minds since the discovery of the chick.

"So Rogue, what do you think you'll name this little guy? Calling him chick is hardly polite or any sort of a name."

At the question Rogue himself turned thoughtful (or as thoughtful as a six year old with ADHD could be) to be honest he hadn't even considered the question in all his excitement and now it's seemed pretty important.

It took him a few seconds before he thought back to the beautiful creatures origins and ancestors as he had thought about his own name, he thought back to where the Eagle had not just survived but thrived. A golden age for both assassins and their feathery friends.

"I will call him... Masyaf, Mas for short."

**Hey guys hope you enjoyed. I dont write ahead so if you REVIEW with some ideas chances are I will put it in the story and probably respond personally. So thanks for that. Also a guest reviewed about FAN ART which is awesome and if you have any don't hesitate to Review and tell me about it and I will hook you up. Although Rogue dosent have his hood yet. (Wink)**

**Thank you,**

**_Rogue Auditore_**


	11. Chapter 11: The Fall

**Here we are**, **finally**

**Please review it helps me loads.**

The months passed quickly for the final assassins. Autumn passed without any major incident and Mas grew with every new moon growing first downy feathers and slowly at the end of autumn and the coming of November he began to show some interest in taking to the skies.

In the one of the first days of November Rogue awoke to hear Mas' cries out for food. The noise annoyed him in the first weeks of keeping the chick in his room but he had come to find it endearing.

After reading his alarm clock hastily and finding it to be only a few minutes before he was supposed to wake and feed Masayf anyway he leapt from bed, threw his head back in a yawn and started to gently stroke the eagle's neck and chin comforting it into silence.

Mas tilted his head to the left and nuzzled his companions finger and thumb, a cute gesture that was a clear indication of 'feed me now' Rogue lifted a small box of crickets from underneath Mas' makeshift best and revealed a few hopping large juicy crickets.

The beady intelligent eyes of the golden eagle fixed onto its target -a particularly large energetic cricket- and the moment Rogue opened the box the insect was snatched up and wolfed down another cricket, and another, and another.

Until the cricket populous was looking shaky and the eagle juvenile sat back in a content clearly full on its jumpy prey. Over the last months as the chick grew the bond that stretched between him and his human had also developed.

It started off slowly and invisible to either minds conscious but it was first noticed by Rogue himself when he began to feel the need to eat whilst physically full. It was not so much an actual hunger but one pegging in the back of his mind. Almost like a subconscious itch that he easily detected because due to his prefect memory (thus a complete control over his mind) he detected it rather easily.

Needless to say Mas himself was very happy with the development of being able to mentally call in food for himself. The bond as most physical and relationship human bonds progressed slowly and each 'bondee' could only feel the others primal emotions such as: Anger, Sadness (on a basic level), Joy and most importantly hunger.

The two seemed to be made for one another which was great for both to prime conditions to bond. Hell they were practically the same being; Orphaned, survivors and the last of a once great untied creed. They needed to rely on the other to even survive.

One aspect of Mas Rogue understood very well was the instinctive need to fly. Both felt it daily and slowly over the months it too grew alongside their bond. Mas had stopped growing downy feathers by now and had an almost new brush of dull still juvenile feathers which were suitable from taking flight but far from the shiny gloss golden feathers of an assassins' eagle.

The last week itself had been full of trial flights all ending in a not so short a drop. Nether the less everyday after his run Rogue would take Mas outside to 'fly'. Today was another trial flight day and Rogue had finished his run faster than usual (which meant very fast) because of the excited feelings he was getting from his eagle companion.

When Rogue and Mas arrived together in the back garden after a few bites to eat Rogue lifted his eagle onto his right hand and raised it to his mid chest. The only noise was the warm breeze rustling the longer grass in the corners of the dry lawn and the beating if two apprehensive heart beats. The ability to fly for an eagle was not just natural but necessary to grow into adulthood and basically just to survive so the first flight was a massively important time in an young birds life.

This went through Masyaf's head as he tilted his beak to the clear blue sky, bent his knees and cocked his wings at his side ready for flight. In seconds the bird had instinctively launched himself into the air and opened his wings as if in greeting to the fiery sun. To lift himself he began to flap his wings extending them to their furthest reach, moving them behind him and then bringing them back up to his side.

Again and again he repeated the movement over the course of seconds, it was a far cry from the original method of flapping recklessly trying to stay up that he had used a few days ago. For milliseconds that both human and eagle observed worriedly Mas seemed to fall down as he flapped but just as he was about 30cm from the floor he started to lift up, slowly at first but as he rose in altitude his confidence and instinctual knowledge rose alongside it and soon he found himself gaining height faster then ever.

On the ground after observing his friend raise about ten meters into the air Rogue burst into loud cries of happiness that fed the eagles energy. Rogue himself was elated that Mas could finally fly and he wouldn't have to leave him at home when he went out anymore.

Higher and higher Mas rose gaining speed as he went, his wings were a little unstable and lacked the muscle that daily flight would embed in them, but apart from slightly wobbly movement and turning he was okay.

All flight is an impressive feat however in planes and birds alike the tricky part was the landing. Mas and Rogue both new this and were soon reminded of this as his wings began to weaken and he grew tired. Most eagles could go for hours in the air but as a new flyer it was taking its toll on the juvenile.

Rogue of course felt this from his companion and raised his right arm to chest height to hopefully act as a perch. Mind rushed over dull golden feathers as the descent began and soon Mas threw his talons out in front of him to catch the makeshift perch.

Things went awry almost straight away as Mas clasped his talons around the outstretched arm and went head over claws with an indignant squawk. The end result was a bruised assassin and an eagle hanging upside down like a bat from a tanned muscular arm.

With his left hand said bruised assassin (Mas' talons were not sharp enough to cut bare skin yet but when pinched caused a nasty bruise.) Righted the bat eagle and quickly fed him a few pieces of raw meat that he kept in his pocket. After he had done that a loud laugh echoed behind the pair and both whipped around to see Giuseppe clapping loudly, clearly delighted at the scene.

"Well done Mas!" he exclaimed from his seat on the patio. His body showed clear signs of a relaxed man who had been sitting in the sun for hours but Rogue was in a slight state of shock.

"How did you get there? How long have you been sat there?" he asked though narrowed eyes, annoyed that his mentor had slipped passed his detection.

His reply was a cheerful laugh and a few unconcerned words, "Long enough my boy, long enough." The Italian then stood and leisurely walked over to where the boy and eagle stood. "Good job Masyaf," he complimented yet again, "An inpressive first flight if I ever saw one (Mas being and intelligent eagle puffed up his feathers at the praise) and Rogue, this could be seen as a lesson I suppose ... Constant Vigilance! Happy moments are what keeps us going but to keep them happy you must be aware at all times. As is an assassin's life." Upon finishing he pulled his slightly more relaxed novice into a hug and chivvied both Novice and co into the house for a bite to eat.

Winter continued to grow after that, the weeks passing by steadily. The Italian climate took a harsh dip during December due to climate abnormalities but other than the cold nights and morning nothing much changed. Rogue still exercised in the cool air as he had no problems with harsh temperatures of any degree but things changed ever so in the first week of December when Mas started joining him, often circling his head or a few meters above the trees and field to practise his hunting.

His flight ability had increased dramatically and he could now stay in the air for about an hour and a half without breaks. Landing was no longer a problem on a standstill perch and even moving ones were adequate in quality.

Feeding slowly became increasingly difficult for the two as he could no longer survive of crickets or small insects and if he ate too much raw meat of large nutrient rich animals it could cause growth development difficulties (actually a thing) So the only option was for Masyaf to start hunting small mammals for food.

Success has been limited due to catching prey being literally like semi landing on a small target, killing it and then eating it at the same time. His only proper catch had been a neighbour's cat that had been shitting on the neighbour's neighbour.

Things had of course gotten worse when Rogue had sensed the catch (their bond had grown to semi communication images and emotions which was still very basic but since a first catch was monumental he had seen the blurry image.) and had ordered Mas to release it.

The real shame was that he had forgotten to say how and where because Mas had just dropped the still alive (now dead) cat through the neighbour's conservatory roof. Giuseppe had gotten an earful that he then recited to Rogue who then privately laughed and rewarded Mas with some small treats. He has never liked the cat anyway and the neighbours lived a few hundred meters up the road. Shame only a few people owned eagles though.

After the cat dropping incident ( which was cleared up via mop from what Rogue heard and recited out loud to Mas through tears of laughter (despite Mas barely understanding)) Christmas became the next exciting event and despite neither human occupant of the house being religious both had learned to love it.

The Christmas tree was the favourite decoration of the house and it had been brought by Giuseppe himself who had chosen the thickest and best smelling tree that Italy had to offer.

And in turn it was decorated with golden and red tinsel that shone in the light (literally, to celebrate Rogue's almost entrance into the magical world (when he would turn seven next year) Giuseppe had allowed them to use some more magical decorations that looked amazing but did not scream magical.) and a vast array of baubles that displayed different images inside them, some of an literally snowing Christmas scene, and others of the vast artic wilderness amidst a snowstorm with polar bear milling about.

It is not necessary to say that the tree was the pride of the house. It was so beautiful lit up with soft yellow lights that Mas had decided to make a nest half way up the tree. An interesting but beautiful sight. The halls were decorated with tinsel that was left over from the tree and even Ezio's blades could not escape having two small bells on either one. Outside was also spectacular as the accumulation of outdoor lights had increased over the years to a grand light display that was both exciting but also tastefully complimented the Italian street. (Meaning mostly warm whites and reds were used with occasional dabbles of green or yellow.)

Christmas Eve came about soon enough much to the excitement of the youngest members of the household. That day Rogue and Giuseppe made all sorts of things that required very little exertion. like a Christmas pudding, some cinnamon fruit cake with glacier cherries in and even a large stash of tiny assassin shaped cookies made from a special cut out that Giuseppe had made via magic.

They had cut outs of the florencian master assassin gear and the crusader master assassins gear. The florencian had a strawberry icing and the Middle eastern crusader had a plain white icing. Both were delicious and gave the modern assassin's a good laugh.

Mas spent most of his time sat in the Christmas tree eating treats like glacier cherries or some small mice he had taken the time to catch that morning. He certainly knew how to relax on a holiday.

As dusk set in and the final meal of the day had been finished Rogue was put to bed by Giuseppe after a particularly long reading session of all the Christmas classics. It had become traditional for the two to sit and read by the fire every Christmas as it snowed outside which happened only once previously but it was how a Christmas night should be like. Luckily it had been snowing and the prefect Christmas image had been created.

Giuseppe had then lead Rogue to his room and had tucked him in gently, on most days the two did not act too closely but Christmas was the one time for them to treat one another like the family they were instead of as mentor and novice.

Every Christmas eve since Rogue had been saved on that Halloween night Giuseppe has given Rogue a dose of the dreamless sleep potion to get him a brilliant rest without any of the common nightmares he experienced on all the other nights of the year.

Giuseppe sometimes prayed that he could take away his child's burden of nightmares forever but alas the dreamless sleep potion was highly addictive if taken more than once in a short period of time, or commonly at all. The potion gave him a good night's sleep and let him sleep until a set time that the dosage allowed. So for a Christmas lay in it was a perfect little treat.

Rogue took the potion in a cup of hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows and after saying goodnight to his mentor drunk the creamy beverage and sunk into the realm of dreams with a smile on his face.

Giuseppe watched as his charge / basically son slept peacefully with a smile on his face and felt his own heart melt at the sight. Not for the first time he realised how much he truly loved his son and how he had watched with pride as he had grown into a brilliant young man. He couldn't wait to see what kind of changes he made to the world the old man thought as he cleaned Rogues teeth with a quick spell and walked into the living room.

He continued the trail of thought as he opened a small window facing onto the patio for Mas (who was snoozing in the Christmas tree) to leave from if he so wanted. Giussepe knew the dangers of the life he would have to re enter to help his son and he also knew that he may not live to see the world Rogue would create. But deep down he knew that it would be a better one.

Rogue had a marvellous sleep with the potion and no nightmares had haunted him at all. He actually woke up at around 8 ish from his immovable slumber. Inside his head as he opened his eyes all was peaceful but when light streamed into his vision panic smashed into his head like a wreaking ball.

His head shot up suddenly, panic that's all he felt absolutely uncontrollable panic seeped into every bone in his body. He completely stood as another wave hit, every nerve in his body was on high alert and he had no idea why. Bang. Another wave smashed into his head, he was so confused and drowsy he let instinct take him to where it felt he should go.

As his breathing hitched in his throat his body thought first and he dove into the back of his wardrobe and quickly and quietly closed the door behind him.

In the dark silence only his hurried breaths could be heard, he could see nothing but he felt another wave hit him again and again. He hid his head in his hands and fought against his instincts. After a few minutes of breathing loudly he barely managed to pinpoint what was causing his panic.

But the thing was it was not his fear, it was Mas'.

He smashed into their bond as he struggled against the wave of fear. He smashed again and again until the eagle noticed he was there. At the feeling of his companion relief from Mas briefly filled the bond but was then replaced with panic. Rogue himself forced on into the bond and tried desperately to see why his friend was afraid.

After a minute of this he hit the jackpot and felt Mas reaching back though the bond to him. The two minds connected in a way they never had before, Mas almost seemed to be pulling Rogue towards himself and then the bond was gone.

Silence.

Rogue was confused where was the bond? He still felt the panic but where was his friends conscious. In his confusion he opened his eyes and reeled back at what he saw. He was flying! Flying! What the hell, this isn't possible. His mind continued to struggle until a warm familiar presence seemed to cool him, Mas' conscious greeted him with his panic flushing thorough the bond. Mas was still panicking but the assassin could feel the distinct feeling of relief.

Rogue's memory went into full research mode soon he realised that he was seeing the world from Mas' eyes like it said in the book an amazing feat but he must find out what the eagle was panicking about. Mas slowly landed in what Rogue recognised as their house and pushed a strain of confusion across the bond.

In turn Mas shared his mental pictures of his memory, they were blurry but Rogue could just make out a loud noise at the start, Mas flying though a window and him trying to sneakily wake Rogue from outside his window. The trend continued for about an hour of him trying to wake his human up but failing massively.

Clearly Mas was startled and had left the house but what had happened in the living room? He was about to dive into his own mind to think but was stilled by what be heard from under Mas' talons.

His veins became cold and it seemed both were shocked into silence. A voice that Rogue had privately wished to never hear again echoed through Mas' powerful ears.

"Burn it burn everything," the voice of Giovanni Auditore whispered in Rogue's head, "This petty excuse of a creed is over, both Miles family heirs are dead and so is that wanna be upstart Layla Hussain. This one was probably the last in centuries that followed the creed as it was meant to be followed. Every assassin in the world has been killed, a plague has been removed."

"Of course Mr Auditore." Came a reply from underneath them, "But wasn't there a boy mentioned by the locals? There's also another empty but used bedroom here that I just walked past."

"Yes," the silky response came, "But the boy was young apparently about five or six according to those locals so there is little chance he would remember his creed at all. Hell he probably hasn't been fuckin taught it yet. Just make it look like a house fire and if the boy shows his face we will kill him."

Only a grunt replied to that.

The blood in the eagles ears rushed with adrenaline and hatred, what had happened to Giuseppe!

Where was he!

Rogue tried to return to his body after hearing his father talk but was blocked by Mas. Both had heard the tales of Giovanni's skill with a sword. But the mental struggle continued, Rogue was getting desperate and practically jumped between begging and threatening his best friend.

Masyaf knew better though, he too wanted to check on Giuseppe but knew if his human went to him now he would be killed in seconds. Also that Rogue had a mediocre resemblance of his father would not help in the mercy department.

This battle raged for minutes until a cease fire was called when they heard another brief conversation, "Burn it now and return to the house." The voice of the elder Auditore said once again to the unidentified grunt before hearing a car door slam and the engine start.

After a second the car motor began to grow feinted as it moved away, seeing his chance Rogue tugged himself quickly through sheer force of will to his body. He felt himself move once again and opened his eyes to see the inside to the wardrobe. The pang of Mas' worry and panic at losing his human hit him but he got up and opened the door quickly.

Running on pure apprehension, fear, panic and adrenaline he leaped across the room, ignored the wet walls and floor that reeked of petrol and slammed open his bedroom door.

Without thinking of the danger of the remaining grunt he raced down the corridor somehow not slipping on the wet marble and with blood pounding into his skull he turned the corner to face the living room.

He was nearly sick.

In the forefront of the room not 3m from where he stood a man stood with a lighter in one hand he wa clearly Italian and ha da slight barely noticeable pot belly but that's no what made his stomach churn. Nor was it the blood stains on the man's clothes. No. It was the Christmas tree.

The tinsel was dimmer now and the baubles ceased to move.

For leant up against it was his mentor, his father. Giuseppe had his eyes open as he stared glassily up into space. A bullet hole tricked blood down his handsome features. Two large ugly burns stood out against his pale cheeks, more burns covered his arms. His chest was slashed crudely and it was clear his stomach had been slit open in a gross defilement of the dead. Large gnashes covered his legs and feet. The most horrible conclusion of all for the boy was that the bullet hole leaking blood was older than the rest.

He must have been sniped in a cowardly act of pathetic fear, that's why he couldn't escape using magic and they had no wards up because there was no need the world did not know they were wizards and Giuseppe was powerful to handle any stray dark wizard or creature.

The bullet hit hard. Giovanni had ripped him apart for the satisfaction of defiling the dead it was so much worse then the torture, Giovanni had not sent grunts to kill him he had come himself to shoot and then carve the final insult to the creed on its last member.

Torture at least lead to death but this was not torture it was the humiliation of a dead soul, a soul that had done nothing except believe in a free world, a good man.

Apprehension was wiped from Rogue's system as it was replaced by anger, no anger cannot cover this emotion it was pure hate, hate for the Templars, hate for the man before him and hate for the man who was unworthy of his name.

As the spark grew so did the fire, the sky and earth shook with hate, clouds spat heavily down on the world and water boiled and spat. Thunder and lightning instantly smashed into existence crying their song of loss.

Inside the villa an invisible wind picked up screaming harshly into the ears of the grunt who turned around and stumbled back in horror at the sight of a young boy staring him down with literally glowing green – gold eyes. The light increased in intensity as the rain increased in violence as it smashed into the windows of the villa.

In complete reflex at being seen and noticed by the man the young assassin leapt forward, seeing red Rogue raised his hands and brought in his legs in an instinct driven assassins' lunge. With a flick of his wrists Ezio's hidden blades smashed from their place on the wall and strapped onto the assassin's wrists. Seconds before his palm touched the henchman's neck the blades flicked out with a silent ease slicing his throat open.

Blood seeped from the clean cut and the grunt fell backwards clutching his neck whilst his eyes bulging in shock. Rogue landed in a crouch staring glassily at the dead man before him. Slowly amid the anger he realised what he had done, but when he saw his mentor up close his heart contracted along with the blades on his wrists.

He clutched at the dead man tears forming in his eyes, this was the man that he baked biscuits with, the man he had trained with, the one who had taught him to read, who had taught him how to fight, someone to look up to, the man who had given him purpose and everything else.

An assassin, a brother and a father.

His saviour.

His everything.

The tears were pouring down his face now, no sound escaped his lips but the steady breathing from his chest. His mind flicked between all the memories he had of his mentor. Every breath he had ever taken in Rogue's presence was replayed in his mind. Everything.

He was so trapped in his head that he barely noticed Mas land on his shoulder, although he did notice the memories that he added to their silent memorial service. They stayed this way for god knows how long, the storm raging around them earth quaking beneath their feet.

Slowly after minutes or hours Rogue rose, he had finished his memory trail right back to a few minutes ago he stood. With years still trailing down his cheeks he closed his Mentors eyes and walked from the room, desperately fighting not to turn back.

With each step the pain grew until eventually it became unbearable, he pictured his mother, father and mentor stood together waiting for him in the afterlife. He wished deep down that he could join them but he couldn't imagine facing his mentor again without even trying to save his Creed.

As he reached the door with Mas still on his shoulder he turned the knob slowly and leant against the side of the door, with a new determination at the thought of seeing his mentor again with his head held high he made a silent tear filled pact: The day I return to deaths arms is the day I set down my arms satisfied with what I have done in this life.

The vow was a simple one but as he for the first time since he had used them Rogue looked to his blood stained hidden blades he knew it would be one fuck ton of a ride.

Not a crying boy but a saddened and yet determined assassin walked alone down the Italian street, an eagles cry echoing far above him told him the way to nowhere.

Rain pounded against his thin blue long sleeved pyjamas and soaked his bare feet to the bone but he continued forward not turning back to his everything. No khopesh, bow or tomahawks adorned his side's he only had the eagles cry above him, the familiar orange machine that he always kept on his person and his blades hidden from view.

A mysteriously aimed lightning bolt hit the house behind him setting all the contents alight with the smell of petrol. Maybe with his body cleansed of the disgusting markings Giuseppe would find his peace. Rogue felt no surprise at the target or the fire, he did not and would not turn back for anything as the storm intensified behind him.

All that could be seen outside on Christmas day on that street were two dull glowing orbs always moving forward. Never looking back.

**A hard but nessesary chapter to write.**

**Please review and tell me what you thought**.

**Rogue Auditore**


	12. Chapter 12: Shit Hits the Fan

**Heey,****Really, Really sorry about the delay I was on holiday but I'm here now and ready to write. There is literally nothing worse in this universe than an unfinished fic, with no note or anything its just an evil act. I will never do that, promise.****Your reviews are crucial to this story and I just want everyone to know how much a nice long review is the best way to know how to improve my writing and this plot. I always read every one and thank you for taking the time.****To everyone who follows and likes this fic you are all awesome as well.****Thanks, Enjoy**

Albus Dumbledore was a happy man. In fact no he was an ecstatic old bastard. Life had a way of looking up when things were looking hopeless he thought to himself.

Tom's reign had been a long one that took many perfectly fine pawns off the board, not to mention the loss of some rare pure blooded familial lines. He himself preached stunning pure death eaters but Tom never did have that same class.

He would never admit to another soul his feelings about the war but Tom scared him, to be honest it was a godsend that his reputation for defeating Grindelwald had kept Tom from ever actually forcing him to fight the dark wizard head on.

Dark wizards, why oh why did he have a thing for bad boys. Tom nowadays and then there was Gellert back in the day. Dumbledore thought calmly leaning back in his chair, yes now that was a hard few years. But in the end totally worth it, all he actually did was a quick memory spell on Newt Scamander and he could take all the credit from the battle.

Newt.

He almost laughed out loud, a brilliant child no doubt but incredibly gullible. The animal lover defeated Gellert after a toilsome battle but almost lost everything in the process of blindly following a few kind words from his old headmaster. Idiot.

And then there was the latest war, one that actually required a bit of elbow grease. That Potter bitch never did trust him and before he knew it Sirius black and James potter had followed her as well. Usually the smart ones were the easiest to turn, a little compliment here and build the arrogance there, then hey presto you have a little pompous minion.

But oh no! Lily Evans (a mud blood parasite shouldn't marry pure bloods or even talk to them!) had to be special and free thinking! Stupid muggles and their unpredictability, they always were more ambitious and independent than wizards.

Damn her!

He wished deep down that it had been the Longbottom heir that was part of the prophecy Frank and Alice were simply put his idiotic lemmings. When he said jump they drooled and made their son sacrifice himself for him.

Ah the innocent, simple Longbottoms, of course Augusta would have been a problem but even then the boy could of grown up comparing himself to his father, which would of worked a treat.

But then that living wind charm had to specify two boys and everything took a few stressful days to sort out before the odds favoured him again.

But now, now there was peace.

The Potter boy was stuck with those muggles and had barely moved in 6 whole years. In the winter his heart beat slowed to barely alive and in the summer it still remained below average.

Clearly the boy must be incredibly sickly and not even allowed outside, as his little Squibb pawn had not reported seeing the boy once.

Muggles, what would he do without them. As his little horcrux (yes he knew about them) suffered now he would become easier to mould into the prefect little kamikaze servant that would once again help to make Dumbledore into the influential dark wizard killer of the century.

At the moment he was powerful politically but he still wasn't strong enough to get his way without complaint from those death eaters and Potter wannabes. He in truth disliked both parties, his personal beliefs were somewhat between his public faces morals and Tom's.

A shame to he thought, Tom was a delicious little snack back in the day. But he was just so violent and impatient, manipulation was the way to go and it was oh so much more effective.

Dumbledore in essence thought himself superior to muggles without a doubt and should they serve him, yes. But he also wanted everyone else to serve him, the annoying trend of democracy was getting irritating why couldn't everyone just kneel to him already. The perfect dumbly society would be one excluded from any Muggle practices with him as government and him alone.

Wizards lived to rule, it was in their nature to rule over all other humans and the strange little creatures that lurked in their banks and oceans. Dumbledore would see this through and live eternally as the most legendary wizard in history. He would not allow some upstart nation like the US (or every other country in the world) to infect his Britain with feelings of equality and self value.

He had had some close calls of course, a member of the black family turning to the light was a problem that now was fixed and lying insane in Azkaban (a very good plan of his if he said so himself, the divide between the wizarding world needed to exist. Made things easier.) and don't even get him started to how things were looking after Grindelwald. Ever since the industrial revolution which those filthy muggles had started wizards had started to worry about development of all things.

Of course he didn't think that it was his fault, he hadn't even been alive! It had been those Frye twins who had retired from the Muggle world doing god knows what and had focused on trying to help wizards evolve! They should of know better but at least he had been able to unreel most of their damage. (The wizarding wireless was one of his losses.)

Never the less the family has caused many problems that gained them far too much power. A few anonymous notes to Grindelwald managed to take out the last of the line but it wasn't easy. Power should always be his and his alone, no one else was responsible enough.

It was all over now thought and in 5 years his plan would finally come to fruition. Time for a lemon drop.

/

In contrast Sirius Black was a very unhappy mutt, he had always suspected that his family had a history of mental health issues and it seemed that suspicion was correct.

His body and mental state had deteriorated like a bad curry, his hair hung limp around his greasy head. His eyes dull and glassy empty of the spark that once burned in them brighter than anyone's else's eyes in his family. Even becoming padfoot helped him a bit but the strain of fear, hate and loss was still present just slightly dulled.

He could feel himself slipping even now as the dementors flew by in their black robes and shrouded natures. This place was already changing his own nature, sometimes he would laugh and sometimes he would cry. In his eternity of torture he had weaved through every emotion known to man, one notable occasion that had repeated itself since was the state of complete total and utter confusion,

Why was he here?

Where was his trial!?

AND WHERE THE FUCKIN HELL WAS DUMBLEDORE?!

He didn't trust the old bastard at all but leaving him to rot in Azkaban was a new low. He knew about secret keeper, he knew he was innocent.

He came after some thought to the conclusion that Dumbledore had sunk so much lower than he could have ever possibly believed. To leave an innocent in Azkaban you would have to be evil there is no forgiveness for that.

And then confusion gave way to rage, pure rage. Fits of slamming his fists into the walls and calling for justice. Having the nerve to scream back at the constantly taunting convicts and his silent guards. Hours passed in rage soon slowed to sadness as all trains of thought did there. Sinking down against his cell wall he would pray, to what God he didn't know, none seemed in the mood to even acknowledge him so he would stop and weep and mourn in his self imposed silence.

After the second year he stopped praying all together, there is no use praying the gods or God for justice. Free will was there for a reason ever since the dawn of time man was expected to stand up for themselves, to love for themselves, to stand up for themselves and to live for the purpose of living. That was the gift.

(AN: Touching on religious toes here but I want those who may be offended to know that it is from an outside perspective. I am of neutral opinions about all religions so it is just my 10 cents on the concept of free will.)

So Sirius stopped praying, stopped asking. He would stand up for himself, he would just wait for the chance. But he still mourned and broke he missed sunlight. He missed food. He missed green. Not really plants but just green in general, the fields of the country, the stem of grass and roses. And the blaze of green in his godson's eyes.

Jesus. His godson, his heart ached and pain like no other coursed through his chest. Lily, James, Harry. It had been decades since he was convicted but he never forgot that night, glassy eyes, tears, regret and guilt. He should never have left Harry, never should of gone after Peter. Who knew hindsight really was 2020, but he could wait, he really was in hell but Sirius Black had hope.

After all hope never left, well except for people here. Sirius' chest was like Pandora's box. Hope remained, hope in the form of one Harry James Potter. He was alive and Sirius was innocent that was enough but as the fates would have it he got more than he could hope for.

Because Harry would remember him, his memory would be a saviour to both of them. He knew Sirius was innocent they had talked about the secret keeper in front of him, his godson would come for him. One day he would be saved.

And that was enough. A man on top of the world and a man with the world on top of him both felt satisfaction bloom in their chests.

Sirius Black looked from his barred window out onto the black rocks and heard the crash of the sea. Wait a while he thought, a few years maybe longer but eventually white sails would break that horizon.

/

Thousands of miles away hope was not present in the chest of a the youngest Black heir. To be honest nothing was really there at all. All that processed correctly in his head was a flourish of memories, memories of a less than happy nature refusing to fade into the black folds of the mind. They likely never would.

Rogue had covered ground though, miles had slipped away like water through fingers. He had to get away that was all his instinctual, primal mind had managed to subconsciously act upon and register.

It was with aching legs and a heavy heart that he finally awoke from his waking slumber. He woke as he stubbed his toes rather harshly on a curb by a speeding road side. As reality dawned and he properly looked around him for any immediate danger he saw himself standing in a road with cars swerving around him after smashing their horns with increasing vigour.

Nobody stopped to help a small child stood in the rode, nobody even really saw his blood crusted bare feet torn to shreds by rocks and brambles (which he could barely feel). Nothing seems to draw any attention to him; not the crusted hair, mud smeared cheeks, torn clothes or the fucking eagle that stood on his shoulder.

It would be nice to think that he was ignored due to a brush of impossibly powerful accidental magic and maybe it was. But it was far more likely that the people in the nice cars wearing clean clothes and notably alive relatives simply had somewhere to be. It could just be a bit of both.

But in the long run the selfishness of humanity isn't really important, the boy who was currently bleeding excessively with an tired eagle on his shoulders, blades on his arms and headphones from his Walkman blasting 'We Didn't Start The Fire' in his ears. He is important.

Rogue leapt out of the road with impressive grace for such a menial action looked around for clues to his location. There was no telling when Auditore would notice where his grunt had gone and raise the alarm. -Not that Giovanni actually cared about the lives of those below him- The most prominent sign of his location was the literal sign for Pisa airport.

Luck or subconscious movement from memories were clearly on Rogue's side as he moved towards the tall barbed wire fences that lined the compound of the relatively small airport. He didn't have any money or other way of escaping the county or even his current location so a plane has really the only way to leave.

With luck he would find food and maybe get a speck of rest. Even the small glimmer of aspirations were enough to boost the restless blood in the small Italian boys frame. Carefully sneaking through bushes and past cameras was a relatively easy feat for a person with such a lithe frame so he soon managed to reach the edges of the runway that left him directly opposite a few stationary planes.

Needing a way to get through the fence he activated his eagle vision and looked a few meters to his left, a small patch of loose dirt glowed bright gold. It took about two minutes to loosen the dirt with his now bloody hands but it was progress. After he got as deep as he could before it turned to virtual rock Rogue looked to the wire fencing that went about 10cm underground.

Using his hidden blades he cut the wire (he figured that they must of been heavily enchanted to remain in such fantastic sharp condition) a small gap under the fence was just about big enough for him. Originally he didn't want to cut the fence because it would be rather noticeable buy he had resigned to take the risk, after all hopefully he wouldn't be in the country for too long after this.

When the dig was finished Mas hopped under first because his wings had tired after flying for miles and then Rogue rubbed his face through the mud and stones and rose out into the airport runway. Because of the winter they had not yet cut the grass for the next year so Rogue quickly sprinted and dove in the grass with Mas flapping exhaustedly behind.

Obviously since it was Christmas day there was significantly less staff and planes arriving and departing from the airport. This meant less chance of getting caught for Rogue but also less of a chance of having the opportunity to actually find a plane he could stowaway in.

So every single plane was an opportunity that couldn't be wasted, with this in mind Rogue lay down in the grass to wait. Whilst Italy is a warm country in mid winter things tended to get very cold very quickly especially is your barefoot and wearing rags. It only took half an hour for this message to kick in for both boy and eagle but each forced themselves to wait.

After two particularly unfun shivering hours laying in rough grass an opportunity arose when a cargo hold of a rather large and out of place long haul plane was being filled with luggage and the two workers went off to collect some more, leaving the hold open. Recklessness drove the two lurkers who launched themselves up and towards the plane at breakneck speed.

Now a six year old running is normally a pretty cute and slow event but for a boy that had been trained for years to run along rooftops he was pretty damn fast. It was a rapid 200m sprint that was over in around 30 seconds. A good thing that it want longer too because each step that Rogue took scratched his feet and as he hurled himself over a large suitcase his feet broke out into a fresh drip of blood.

Mas landed next to him stealthily as Rogue lay eyes closed in agony. The following hour was spent also very cold and painfully as the two oblivious airport staff filled the hold. In the first still silence since Giussepe's death Rogue closed his eyes and focused on the pain in his feet and managed to escape the emotional turmoil that awaited him. As the pain slowed to a dull throb Rogue slowly fell into a light sleep.

The sound of the hold closing awoke him and he became vaguely aware of Mas' head on his chest, the bird like he had awoken to the darkness that now gripped them. Rogue knew that a cargo hold became very dangerous when the plane took flight and didn't particularly want to be crushed by a hello kitty limited edition case.

Once again using hidden blades to open a nearby case whilst seeing through his eagle vision he slashed at a lock and the zip came free. He did this for a few cases until he found what he was looking for, linen. Fresh clean linen.

Mentally apologising to the owner of the case he picked out a few clothes made of the material and slashed them to ribbons. They made effective bandages to say the least and soon he was bandaged in all the worst areas, after that had been seen two he continued to rummage carefully through a few cases.

He found a fresh pair of clothes that were only slightly too big but sadly no shoes. The only drink he had came in the form of a few bottles of wine at first and a bottle of rum which was not very common in Italy but hey take what you can.

As the minutes ticked by he became increasingly aware of the impending take off and sped up in his opening and sealing of cases. Nothing of value came up except a small pack of expensive looking cigarettes that lay in a pair of socks. They were the nicer cigarettes that smelt less like tarmac and more like tobacco.

Giuseppe had smoked himself but always hid it well from Rogue. When he had found out he had cut down but always kept a light smell of tobacco about him. The streets of Italy themselves smelled just like the pack of them Rogue held in his hands did. He kept the thought in mind as he took a sniff and shoved them in his pocket to remind himself of home.

As his hand left his pocket the plane lurched forward and Mas took no time in flying to the side of the hold which held the fragile and live cargo that was held down my material plastic strips that formed a square shape which was held up by two metal poles. It almost looked like a climbing frame with elastic ropes that reached up to the top of the hold.

(AN: It's hard to describe so just look it up)

He was followed up at a slower by his human who climbed cautiously not wanting to cause a fresh bout of pain from his feet. When he reached the top Rogue flopped down spread-eagled onto the elastic although it was a hammock. Deciding to clean some of his scratches he removed the bandages (he made extras just in case) and gently poured some of the rum over his skin. ("OOOOOOOOO SHIT")

By this time the plane was completely in the air and the cold started to amplify until it was near freezing. To remedy this he opened a case slowly -ready to react if one fell on him- and brought out a few towels that he had spotted before in that case.

As he was now slightly warmer he decided to investigate the fragile items under the area he had made his nest. At first it was pretty boring stuff like terracotta pots or what looked like an urn ( he didn't ask questions) but then he hit the jackpot when his ever active night vision eagle vision let him spot an object of interest. It was a small box that when opened revealed a small gathering of baby tortoises wrapped in thermal cloth and a hot water bottle that warmed the box ever so slightly.

Tortoises are relatively hardy so they just seemed to shut down into a semi hibernation state that would end when they warmed up. Rogue was excited by this discovery and gently leaned in and inspected the animals.

Ever since he was three he had known he could talk to snakes, this had happened accidentally when a rather large grass snake had been hiding under their patio. Neither Rogue nor Giuseppe had given the ability much thought because whilst it was seen as a dark trait in England it was a incredibly rare special gift everywhere else. Though it had little use in the world except being a good interesting conversation from time to time.

Despite that Rogue threw himself into learning everything he could about snakes and their fellow reptiles. In fact he had studied them so vigorously he had actually ran out of books with any further information with the exception of some of the more biological how does it live bits. Giuseppe had actually promised him a reptile of his choice on his seventh birthday as a reward but fate clearly had other ideas.

Anyway in short that's why he was so exited to see the little tortoises, he had always felt more comfortable around animals than humans. Humans had a nasty habit of being good and evil, having opinions and agendas. Animals were pure they lived to survive and to live as free as the sea. Animals were certainly better.

He spent a short time playing with the tortoises before covering them back over and climbing back to his nest. The temperature was now far too cold to move, Rogue's breath came out in short foggy pants. However many blankets he wore he never seemed to get to sleep or raise his temperature by a single centigrade.

Mas had slept quickly and was wrapped up in the most thick fluffy towels he could find. Rogue on the other hand was still amidst hell. As he glanced down at his hand he saw the bottle of rum and remembered a rare source from Edward Kenway's writings on his travels. ( They were virtually undocumented)

Something he wrote about how rum would warm the soul on cold nights. Well its technically familial advice he reasoned as he took two large gulps of the strong liquid. The rum ran down his throat strong and powerful the flavour caught him by surprise at first before he felt the a spark of warmth in his chest. For a few minutes he contemplated the strong but good taste before his mind began to swim. He barely managed to let out a sigh before greeting darkness.

Now Rogue has had alcohol before in small doses, Giuseppe would let him have a sip or two of wine every Sunday or on special occasions a sip of lemon cello but never had he had this much before and he took it hard.

Rogue was asleep, objective completed but even the alcohol induced state still have him nightmares. And this time they were so much worse. Images of Giuseppe screaming his name alongside the Potters tortured his mind, scenes so traumatic it would do no one any good to mention them.

When the random memories and fragmented nightmares disappeared his subconscious was greeted with a truly strange scene. On one side of an all black room Lily, James and Giuseppe threw dodgeballs at another team of two at the other end the both Dumbledore and ol'nosie were holding their own against them. Now okay that's normally pretty fuckin weird but add in the fact that the dodge balls were all misty glass balls spewing mysterious one liners that couldn't quite be made out and you've for your self a mental fuck fest.

Rogue just sat to the side not exactly sure what to do, he wasn't even sure if he had to help his family or what. The fight for faster and faster as he sat there until the one liners from the prophecy also got louder and clearer, when the fight had reached peak almost unfollowable speed lines mashed together.

A rasp voice screeched from his deepest conscience, "neither shall live whilst the other surv..."

Before being taken over by a more raspy poetic tone, "Wisdoms daughter walks alone,.. ... Seven half bloods an... Cursed blade shall re... BEWARE!"

The voices got faster and faster blending into one doom filled chant, Rogue's mind sprung into overdrive hearing more and more raspy lines. His heart smashed against his chest and just as it felt like his heart was going to implode, darkness began to fade around him and he greeted them it glee. The last sound he heard was a sound that would haunt him for years. A single snipping noise that echoed around his mind like cutting a steel cable.

As the snip smashed around his consciousness he woke quite literally shooting from his makeshift hammock thing. The cause of the movement was far from mental though because the whole plane had shuddered as it presumably landed. The shock motion had not only sprung Rogue from his sleep but has also sent the rum bottle from his hand into the side of a case, smashing over the hold floor.

Still groggy Rogue moved around the elastic ropes rubbing his eyes, the noise that had ended his dream lay strong in his mind. It must of been the plane he told himself jumping like a panther onto a glass free case. Luckily the drop was only about two meters onto a soft case or his feet would have torn themselves apart.

His magic had as usual boosted his healing speed and his feet were only slightly sore though he didn't dare to risk a glance. He couldn't survive in a hostile environment whilst holding back physically and seeing the damage would cause he to go easy. Survival of the fittest was the first rule on the streets and he had to be fit for action.

Creaking began to emit from the aircraft's core and Rogue took what little time he had to prepare himself and Mas for whatever environment he would have to face next. He didn't put any socks on because they would pretty much without shoes doom him to fall climbing, but he did put on a small light raincoat he had found that should be able to shelter him from rain and colder winds. There were thicker coats but moving about in them would be slow and sloppy.

It would of been nice to find trainers or a back pack but he would have to make do and suck it up. He just hoped that wherever it was it wasn't too bloody cold at the moment or shit would hit the fan. Somewhere like Singapore or Dubai would be nice this time of year and he could make do there but he wasn't sure how long he had been on the plane. He could be anywhere. Stupid strangely warming, forcefully relaxing, fucked up dream giving rum.

As the creaking from the plane increased and the bay door began to rise letting in a burst of light that Rogue had to wince to adjust to, a stream of cold air from outside then caused another this time mental wince. Fuck.

The door continued to rise until it was open just enough for the small boy and eagle to dash through. Rogue took a deep breath and sprinted from the bay into the open sunlight, his head pulsed at the light and the cold air whipping into his face.

The two cargo unloaders looked at him for a few seconds, mouths hanging open before crying out in shock. He managed to cover ground quickly despite his feet, he had to get away from border security and all that so speed and stealth were going to have to help him.

After about 200m of his adrenaline quelled and he looked up at the runway and airport itself. So whilst still retaining his speed (the loaders had began screaming into their walkie talkies) he looked up at the rather impressive airport.

In big bold capital letters that stood out against the runway facing wall three lines of text in Chinese, Arabic and English, after squinting at the English for a few seconds trying it make it out suddenly remembered he could actually speak the other two languages pretty well.

All three read out the same thing: WELCOME TO TOKYO, JAPAN.

SHIT!

**OKAY so I know the Japan thing is stereotyped and it ALWAYS HAPPENS so I know no points for originality but hey, I will put an interesting spin on it. But the point of it is mainly to help Rogue get his shit together and get all magical and that so. :) He needs a little power if he wants to go head to head with all those demigodly challenges and monsters.**

**Please REVIEW it helps me so much and if you want to add or change something in this story I probably will.**

**Cheers**

**Rogue Auditore**


	13. What the Fuck is a Foglet?

**I knowwww its been ages and im super sorry but school took me off guard and the homework is hard especially for GCSES. But ive got through the worst and regularish updates should be coming out. To all Americans you are lucky bastards, 3 months of summer holidays. Lucky fucks.**

**PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT. STILL VERY SORRY**.

Okay so as a general rule of thumb living on the streets in Tokyo is utter bullshit. During the winter every night it plummets to near freezing and during the day it's not much better. The summer would be much better but even then it wouldn't be hard for it to be too hot.

The other factor was the people around the streets and those living on them, the everyday workers moving to and from work would not give any money to beggars, in fact no one would. It seemed to be the general consensus in the city that if you were on the streets it was your fault and your problem alone.

Unfortunately this sentiment was shared by those actually on the streets for a living, during the day they would hide from public sight and at night would scavenge for necessary shelter.

It was hard to succeed once your already at the bottom of the good chain and chances are any money you have would be ripped from your persons upon arrival at any of the warm sleeping locations.

So no with begging and community support out Rogue was not having fun on the streets. The only actual payment in the way of income for Rogue was the money he stole from tourists that usually carried lots of cash.

And while the money was good from robbing tourists you had to be in the places that tourists themselves would go.

Rogue was a good pickpocket that was for sure, his small hands could take anything from a bag but it was hard to steal money in a bag if the people didn't carry cash.

Naturally to find tourists he had started seeking out tourist hotspots and marks of international interest to steal the excitable onlookers money, and for a day or so this would work.

That was before of course the security teams around him would notice the suspicious small person in a hoody. They couldn't prove anything but when he tried to come back to that location the next day, even in different clothes (He had found shoes) he would be denied access. Even in public areas! For suspicion of pickpocketing.

With minimal evidence the security teams couldn't arrest him but it was enough to be able to bar him from access without an appeal. Which he knew he would lose.

This unfortunate process of being kicked out had repeated itself for the last three months and Rogue was starting to get desperate. He could barely afford to keep himself from starving never mind Mas, he knew he needed to score but there was nowhere to go.

The magical world was out due to scar related reasons as was the Japanese magical bank which you need a citizen ship to get into no matter how powerful your inheritance is.

So here he was out in the cold with no options available to him, well there were always other slightly more illegal ways to get money but Rogue was in no mood for selling drugs or joining a gang. Those were out to, now how to get money?

The only option he really had available to him in the way of tourists was the entrance to the mountain paths. Tourists flocked there every day in huge numbers, all carrying supplies and money. But Mount Fuji made him queasy he would never admit it but the raw power that hummed around it was intimidating, he remembered on his magical history lessons how magical Japan had risen near Fuji due to the 13 something lay lines it rested on or something crazy like that.

Yes the raw power of the mountain warned him away and when he got to close it felt like his mind was trying to tear itself away from his body, that and at this time of the year Fuji was bloody cold.

But Mas was living off rats and be has eaten only a few noodles yesterday, he had no choice really. So with that annoying conclusion Rogue went out to find a tourist bus to stowaway in. Primary school problems hard life.

If possible Rogue's mood had not only gotten worse but was also giving him the kingpin of headaches. They had left the safety of the bus once it had parked and instantly regretted it. The wind was picking up and icy cold blasts hit him at every angle, Mas couldn't fly in it without getting rammed into a tree and all the tourists preparing to climb the mountain had stopped and tried to out wait the current semi snowstorm that wasn't snowing. Brilliant.

The tourists were currently sat in the bus watching the mountain disappear through the clouds there was no way he would achieve the task of hiding undetected around the bus's heating.

Needing somewhere to go before they both froze Rogue turned to Mas. Mas your gunna need to look for somewhere to camp for both of us, He said over the bond, a tourist group or something, come on. Mas looked at him blankly and tilted his head away in a move that could only be translated as a scowl.

The way they communicated could really only be crudely translated into words but Mas was very clearly not wanting to fly in the wind. Rogue was quickly getting cold and pretty annoyed at his eagle.

It's alright for you, you stupid bird but I am actually affected by the cold. Now go up there and find us somewhere to shelter!

Mas squawked indignantly and gave his human the mental middle finger but still did ruffle his feathers and prepare to take off. He reckoned that if he got high enough he should be able to fly normally and at least then it would shut Rogue up. That and his lips were turning blue so maybe it would be a good idea to fly and get them both some heat. Ooh maybe a deer or something lived here.

And selflessly with the image of a juicy deer on his mind Mas launched himself into the air off his Assassin's shoulder into the wind. At first shit hit the fan pretty hard, Mas was hit by a massive icy gust but managed to right himself as he beat his wings and slowly lifted higher into the air.

After a few tense seconds Rogue let out a sight of relief as Mas rose above the wind and stabilised himself before soaring up and out of sight. It was one of the few pleasures of Rogue's as of recently to fly with Mas using their shared conscious when they merged. Unfortunately to do that now would result in Rogue's body dying of hypothermia and according to the familial bond that would kill both of them.

The streets were the same really they had to watch out who could try and steal from him whilst he was 'out'. The pair usually climbed/ flew up to high ledges and rooftops so that no other street thugs or other homeless people would take the chance.

Although the homeless of Japan were actually quite nice and would often show him the warmest places to spend the day and where to get food cheaply, hell an old man had taught him how to use chopsticks on the streets. They were kind to him and he returned the favour by buying them some warm sake on cold nights.

Needless to say he was pretty popular among his peers but on the less legal side he was definitely not. The Yakuza really didn't appreciate him as the homeless did, during his first month here he was just takin a stroll (stealing) and spotted this tough looking guy harassing an old man outside a shop with a massive mean looking dog. Obviously threatening him for money or something.

Now Rogue stole but never credit cards or money from those that looked hard up, only cash from the wealthier tourists or those that pissed him off. (Which was a surprisingly high number) So seeing an old man being roughed up outside what Rogue could only assume was his shop pissed him right off. Go harass the billionaires and business men, not the hard working street level citizens.

The dick actually reminded the boy of the Mafia that he had grown up hearing about from Giuseppe. Those who took from the weak to boost their own egos. Mas mentally made the connection from his perch on the rooftops to his left and agreed with him, they were gunna fuck this guy up. Before the old man could get beaten around any more Mas soared down from his perch and with pin point accuracy grabbed the huge dogs tail and pretty much shredded it with his razor talons.

Dogs as a whole were awesome, Rogue loved dogs as one had literally saved his life as a baby but that love ended with the monster in front of him. He didn't need eagle vision to tell him that beast was bad news.

Seeing his threatening monster get struck by a massive cloud of feathers distracted the thug long enough for the shop owner to retreat inside and what the scene with no small amount of glee. Mas didn't sit idly by after he had grabbed the dog and was beating his wings with such ferocity that the dog had been dragged backward, the grunt followed swimming at Mas.

As the grunt was now facing the opposite direction Rogue used the run up as a force builder (a grown man is a grown man and he wasn't half way there yet.) before jumping and catching the man right in the throat as he turned towards shadow upon him.

Being hit in the throat is a sure was to wind someone and the harasser must of agreed because he spent several seconds panting on the ground as his dog sprinted away now tailless. In those precious seconds Rogue grabbed a large bottle of cheap sake from the outside shopping fridges with glass tops and smashed it on the guys head. Unconsciousness was a bitch.

And that was why the Yakuza hated his guts, the old guy was left alone after that though he and some local friends has filmed the 'debate' and thoroughly humiliated the man and his whole organisation. The police now patrolled the street at various intervals so any hits stopped almost completely. In that location at least.

Standing in the cold on mount Fuji Rogue felt a pulse through his mental connection and felt Mas', curiosity? Despite the risk he tested the connection between their minds and tried to delve into Mas' conscious. The curiosity that was feeding into him was so strong that he couldn't help it.

Immediately he was transported 100 of feet into the sky, Mas was looking down upon the mountain as he was cutting through the air and it was not hard for the Assassin to notice what his eagle had been trying to point out. Out from the side of the very mountain jutted what could only be described as a small traditional Japanese courtyard with homely lanterns hanging and swaying gently in the ln their own light. The place was picture perfect but it was a complete ghost town. Not a soul could seen braving the cold and inside showed no signs of inhabitants except for the lanterns.

Before they could get the chance to look at the wards a gale of wind but them like a truck and forced them back, the wind didn't let up and eventually Mas started to return back to Rogue's body to go and investigate. A surge of inexplicable curiosity took over Rogue's system and almost longing of a lost love to see those lanterns again, to see what was being lot by them.

An older Rogue Auditore would later theorise that it was some sort of mystic desire magic that lead him to do what he did next, cause in hindsight it was ridiculous.

They felt their conscious dividing slowly and Rogue was back in his body seconds later. It was cold. Very, very cold, he shook himself with the idea of a warm bed for the night and started forward to the mountain trail, Mas landed on his shoulder and soon they were making decent time, trees blurred past and even the occasional black bear.

The speed he was moving at would seem impossible for any outsiders but at that speed the frost died to a chill and he felt exhilarated just to run free through the countryside, something he hadn't done for weeks. His movements were probably powered by his excess magic looking for somewhere to go, his magical core was blocked from using and with drawing magic but both had rotted away slowly giving him a subconscious energy well to tap into.

The storm only worsened around him and sleet had started pouring harder and harder the higher he got. Even his magic that he didn't know he was tapping into was failing him, he wasn't versed enough in using magic as a strength boost and it had begun to halt. Rogue kept running on though even as his body just dropped in energy he was invigorated.

It had almost been three hours since he had started and the climb but with his memory from Mas' head told him that it couldn't be far up the mountain until he reached his goal.

Ice was starting to claw at the trees now, the cold becoming unbearable as Rogue started to stumble. Darkness began to take hold and the boy welcomed it with exhausted open arms. That darkness came in impenetrable waves until all faded into black, until, a light!

A soft orange glow attracted his sole waning attention and sparked with the feeling of ending the cold, a primal emotion of self preservation that kicked in whenever called. And call his subconscious did, called until the life sprang back behind his eyes and the blanket lifted freeing him to see the source.

The source happened to be a small but luminous set of two lanterns burning away merrily in the now seemingly light wind and snow. A huge torri held the lanterns up and stood proudly in front of a mossy wall that seemed to go on for as far as the eye could see, incidentally you couldn't see that far down the wall as the snow and tall trees obscured vision to 10 meters maximum.

The torii was a dull red, looking marble in texture and sheen with golden letters inscribed down and along its columns each about a foot long. Those same letter that immediately drew his attention, each letter was indescribable all the symbols seemed to flicker and move at a incalculable rate some times the gold lines would curve and others they would move in smooth straight strokes. It was only describable as a blind man trying to feel the indents of pen ink on a page. There but forever unknown and meaningless.

What shocked Rogue most however was the raw power that the symbols gave off, when shown in eagle vision the gold glowed brighter than anything ever had. They were so bright it was like looking into the sun, the longer he looked at them and trying to disconcert at least one symbol his head began to groan and the first seeds of a headache began to plant themselves in his head.

It was the same headache starting that drew him away from the symbols as fascinating as they were they also appeared to be dangerous, they quite literally emanated power that made moving along the cobbled path that led to the torii gate almost impossible. Raw energy that felt like a humidity clinging to Rogue's skin and clothes.

Behind the torri nought could be seen only mossy and cobbles layered with a fine mist that let only the orange glow of other supposed lanterns hanging further in. Upon reaching the threshold Rogue held out a arm for Mas to land on his shoulders. Neither dared say anything to one another for the fear of whatever controlled or lived in this place would detect them, but alas the cold was returning even now after the surprised had drained off.

Praying to whatever God's he knew of that these wards or whatever they were would not incinerate him he took a step forward, through the gate.

A risk of walking through unknown wards was one that Rogue would never take under normal circumstances but these did not feel like wards and with his limited magical training (none) and knowledge (mainly the history and the basics) he would never be able to figure out what those things even were never mind what they did. He was a homeless western assassin, barely a novice and no hope at achieving anything.

The temptation was too much to resist and he had nothing to lose. He would surely die in the cold.

The feeling was indescribable it was like walking through magic itself, only this wasn't the magic he was familiar with sensing. It was older, ancient even. More complex than any other power he had felt. It felt not sentient not intelligent but alive. Moving through his body it felt almost like cool water was soaking through his skin and through his muscles.

First his leg went through without him bursting into ash and then his knee came through without problem. However the second His chest moved into the barrier his breathe caught in his chest. He was stuck. His head which was mm from the barrier was trying desperately to pull himself out as were his elbows that were only partially stuck.

As he struggled a cool have of raw energy surged through his chest, it almost acted as a trigger for something in his chest stirred and leap around his ribcage. They felt almost like strong tentacles of heat suffocating him from the inside, frantically gasping for air trapped Rogue wracked his memory. What the fuck was this!?!

Then he remembered, a restraint apparently set on him by the whiskered haired wanker (his vocabulary has spiced up after he had met some of the English speaking homeless men around before he could speak Japanese) to withhold his magic or something. Whelp this felt like a restraint.

Suddenly as soon as the feeling become uncomfortable another stronger wave moved forward and literally washed away the hot tentacles around his ribs. They had just vanished leaving Rogue momentarily surprised, wasn't the old dude one of the greatest wizards in Britain? How the hell did this gate remove such a bind? What was this thing.

Things became a little more problematic however as his forehead crossed into the weird runes barrier. The millisecond he froze Rogue panicked again, what was it this time!? But that millisecond did not last long as the gate reacted nigh instantaneously sending another wall of power at him this time without the warning 'shot' as it were.

Whatever the threat in him was it didn't have time to repent of fight back before it was wiped from existence, without even a pinching sensation. Such shock was enough to scare anyone and even the last assassin fell flat on his face after he had passed the barrier. And then Rogue felt, lightness.

No screw that he thought as be rose to his feet, he felt powerful, he felt a mental freedom that he had never experienced or even missed before, he felt magic. The breaking of the bonds had given him an access to his full power, a power so large it felt like mountain in the form of a mole hill.

Him and Giuseppe had talked for hours about magic, how it felt and how it could do anything. That feeling of wonder at those tales and scriptures was nothing on what he felt, but then sadness. Loss. Anger. After his head had seemingly been cured for a few moments Rogue had hoped it would all fall away but alas pain makes men great. And god's know this man needed to be great the fates would not let him be anything else.

Rogue felt alongside this emotion a rush of bitterness flood into his wonderings about magic.

As he had been told, "Magic is a powerful tool but it is just that a tool. A man cannot define himself by how he lives based on a hammer or a knife. And an Assassin has to define and prove himself by actions and skill. For if we let ourselves thrive in magic we will strive to protect magic and not what counts. Freedom my boy."

Magic was not the answer, it was useful and brilliant but a fast road to arrogance and though arrogance, ignorance. The Assassins were rarely wrong. Unless Rogue thought dryly that whole period with Shay, what the fuck were they on.

The whole musing took about three seconds before he was cuffed around the ear by Mas. Sensing his eagles surprise Rogue delved into his eagles mind and used his eyes. And was soon looking back at himself, ragged and bruised with a thin frame that stole any muscle he could've had. But there was a small difference, a difference that would make him invisible to the wizarding world in the future. His scar was gone.

The knowledge was the second shock in mere seconds for the boy as he stared at his forehead, that scar had been with him for years. A stark reminder of the horrors of the past but now, now it was gone. And he honestly wasn't sure what he thought about it, all he truly knew was that his head felt cleaner without it there both inside and out.

"A lone traveller should be weary of their surroundings at all times little one," called a voice in Japanese from outside his safe but conflicted mind, "One never will be warned about the creatures of the night beforehand if mind and body do not work as one."

Rogues head predictably snapped around and launched into a defensive crouch, looking around the courtyard he was now in he saw the beauty of the place. Basked in lantern light the courtyard garden was magnificent, miniature rivers and Ravines cut through large mossy rocks and pebbles. On those rocks stood various species of a glowing mushroom that had a thick deep red and black skin but the spots on the bell glowed in a gentle turquoise light, others were translucent with glowing red hearts and gold illuminous spores.

The trickle of water came from the unavoidable tree in the centre of the garden, through the gravel and small ferns it stood out like a skyscraper in Ghana. The tree was huge in the sense that it was small, standing a good 18 feet tall to the highest leaf. What made it small was how the tree almost seemed like a bonsai tree but large, it had twisted branches and a weathered looking trunk.

Only from stealing at tourist hotspots did Rogue know this tree, it was a Japanese gingko. Detailed and more ancient than any in the gardens he had visited, it looked beautiful too beautiful. No tree was supposed to look like that and certainly no tree was supposed to give off the thrum of power that this one did. It was an energy that could only be described as alive and ancient, he felt like he should be on his knees at the power.

And on a knarled perfectly curling branch in the tree the source of the voice that had roused him spoke again. "Few can find their way here boy, and fewer can pass through the gate." Said the figure in the tree sat with their legs crossed. "I only allowed you in because you could see this place, now speak what did you come for?"

Rogue looked at the figure still in his stance and spoke to the shadowed figure with caution, "The lamps," he said slowly, "We could see them from the air."

"We being you and the eagle I suppose, an eagle that to my knowledge went extinct years ago and died alongside the ones that used the very blades you carry on your wrists." Came to the skeptical reply, Rogue opened his mouth but was cut off by the shadow.

"Years gone past no person, adult or child would walk towards a lantern out of curiosity or desperation. Foglets roam these lands as they have for aeons, if you learn anything today boy remember that."

Rogue bit back a biting reply, what the fuck was a foglet? But expecting a equally confusing reply he wenat for another line of questions, "You know of the creed?"

"I knew of it, but it hasn't truly existed to my knowledge for centuries. I met an Assassin in my youth and a few between then and now but still very little contact has been made between us."

Rogue was getting annoyed now, a straight answer really wasn't hard. "Us?" he questioned loudly.

The figure in response stood and leapt silently from the tree, landing directly in front of the boy. The man was ripped from the shadows and revealed to be a elderly Japanese man that stood surprisingly tall for a man this far east. He was easily 6'1-2 with white short hair (maybe 3 inches long) brushed back from his forehead, his facial hair was groomed delicately with a short beard and moustache that were both shockingly white.

He was finely dressed in a black robe of some sort that was akin to an assassins' robe more so than a wizarding dress/ tent. It had a very discreet monky vibe going on but the guy despite his leathery, heavily wrinkled skin and dark knowing eyes be looked more like a business man than a monk.

Wait, what? Rogue tried not to stare, but it was hard in his defence. For the 'monks' ears were not rounded human ears but pointed almost elven ears. Like an elf.

He couldn't stop himself, "Us as in elves?? Are you and elf?!" he blurted ungracefully. The 'elf' that had been watching Rogue's face closely as they surveyed one another, "I am an elf yes boy, but I would advise against voicing that fact to my kin. We are historically less than tolerant of humans, especially those armed with steel and silver. And no my people are not my kind, I am an elf but only an elf second."

Rogue's mind was getting quickly tired from being blown every ten seconds but elves? Really? The adrenaline that had flooded his veins had resided and even when stood before an actual elf he was feeling the lingering sense of exhaustion.

The unnamed elf noticed the sag in his companions shoulders, the look of sleep glazing over his eyes and how the boys eagle seemed to sway oh his shoulder.

In fact it was only the Elf's swift reflexes from years of training that he managed to catch the boy as darkness overtook him.

"Sleep boy, then in the morning we shall both get some answers."

That was the last thing that processed in the humans mind before sleep cornered him.

**Ta Da, i think my writing is improving as we go??**

**TELL ME IF THATS TRUE AND THAT YOU THOUGHT :)**

**The whole story from here is going to skip a little section for speed reasons, cause i think you guys deserve some Harry Potter and Percy Jackson although considering lessening the Percy Jackson vibe. Not sure. But the missing bits will be filled by gradual flashbacks (i know groans) but they will be explanatory and will make sense (unlike a lot of fanfics where we have no idea whats going on) so theres that to look forward to. So in about the chapter after this one we'll get the ball rolling FINALLY!**

**PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT NEXT AND I'LL PUT IT IN**

**ROGUE AUDITORE**


	14. Chapter 14: Training Day

This is the epitome of filler chap but please enjoy it and make sure to read it closely, NEXT CHAPTER ACTION FINALLY.

Thank you please enjoy.

After sleep revived his strength lost yesterday the young Assassin stirred from his slumber. Miso soup greeted his nostrils as it lingered on the air, a delicate strong scent that made his stomach growl. Feeling Mas sleeping only centimetres anyway he summoned his will power and managed to open his eyes and the sight that greeted him was less than unusual.

The ma- elf from yesterday was sat tending to a large pot of what could only be Miso soup, around him the walls were light screens. The sun must have already risen as the screens were providing all of the light of the room, strange Rogue considered as he distinctly remembered (ironic since he remembered every heartbeat and millisecond since he was born) the stone walls that surrounded the compound, magic?

That was the annoying thing about being magical, nothing was true quite literally in fact. As was the fact that in front of him was a strange elf thing in a magical little courtyard on the side of a mountain.

As he looked up to the intriguing character he was pondering he felt dark eyes meet his, "You have questions I assume?" the elf asked seemingly unconcerned by the huge eagle that had risen from a pillow next to the boy staring at him with calculating eyes.

"Yes." Rogue answered tersely not sure if he should trust the man.

"And I have some questions of my own that you will answer before I tell you anything, that is of course if you want help?" It was hardly a question from the Elf it came out more as a command.

"What? Who says I need help?" The young novice felt himself tensing up and shifting slightly. How did he know anything?

Dark eyes met green again with no small amount of humour in them, "You came to me boy half dead, a horcrux in your head, a bind on your magic, clearly living rough and seemingly the last follower of a dead brotherhood. My best guess is that you want to become and Assassin?"

Shock smashed into his chest, what was a horcrux? The thing in his head? How did he know about the bind? Was it the thing that was removed first? And what should he say?

Seeing it pointless to lie Rogue gave in, "Yes I intend to fight the Templars? What of it?"

A blank look, "You'll die in days if not hours."

Rogue couldn't answer and just stared dumfounded at the short brutal statement.

Seeing this as an invitation to continue the elf did so, "You have wandered into a magical zone half dead from walking up a mountain, if this was a Templar hideout you'd be dead in seconds. Your entire magical core had been restructured and you are only a youngling but you would die. The world is cruel boy you have to be too."

Silence.

"I can help you, turn you into the Assassin the creed needs, I can teach you magic beyond reasoning, make you into a killing machine, tell you the secrets of the universe and about every mystic, magical and mythological entity in this world and more importantly how to kill them. But it comes at a price boy, a high price."

"What kind of price?" Rogue asked temptation seeping into his voice, he needed magical skills to kill Voldie that's for sure but he also needed to uphold the creed to his best ability. It had saved him and given his purpose when there was none available to him, for his ancestors and for his mentor freedom needed to thrive.

"Service." Came the answer that seemed even more unhelpful, "To protect the world from dangers that many have forgotten, to uphold the power and duty of this place."

Eagle and boy exchanged a glance, "Bit stereotypical isn't it? Becoming an apprentice to some old Japanese dude and protecting the world from evil?" He couldn't help himself.

"Mmh yes I suppose the monk aspect certainly but you are no monk and will never be not matter how much time I put into moulding you into one."

"Hey I can be a monk mate." Rogue growled out insulted.

"Peace is neither your intention or your will, you have no concept of it and don't want to. Your mind is completely undefended and just from a look inside you can never achieve enlightenment, pain, anger and a lust for revenge rampages through every second of your conscious. You can uphold many ideals and become a legendary warrior but a monk is out of the question." The monk told the boy eyes returning to stirring the soup slowly and methodically, well for soup stirring of course.

"You read my mind!?" Rogue roared shooting up, with Mas screeching loudly and leaping onto his humans shoulders wings spread wide threateningly.

Italian boy stood against Japanese elf neither moving but one looking significantly calmer than the other, the breeze outside had begun to pick up outside the screens and light began to dim in the room. Outside clouds were covering the sun and clogging the sky a deep grey. Rogue's eyes began to glow like green embers and his anger was mounting quickly, his mind was his one safe space and this bastard had just flicked through it like some picture book.

"Sit," the monk said without missing a beat, "You have some natural barriers but walk away or attack me and your mind will become a book for any that truly wish to read it. One of the many things I can help you with."

"You read my mind." The Italian hissed, still angry but more subdued by the concept of enemies reading his mind.

"And it saved us a good deal of time too, your story would of taken a while to tell youngling." Came the reply, still as collected as ever. "You have a choice now Mr Auditore, or would you prefer Harry? No, no fair enough. (He said as he received a less than welcoming glare.) Agree to serve another noble cause or leave, it's now or never. You need not know anymore, just decide."

Well shit, this was a problem. Agree to do a job he had no idea what it involved but was guaranteed to help him become an Assassin. Or work for himself with no guidance in magic or further combat, which he was under no false pretences would involve living on the streets and probably doing fuck all and then dying before getting his own back. So train with the magical mystical mind reader or die via grunt?

"Ill do it, but only if you teach me as much as I can learn and quickly mind you." Rogue confirmed slightly surprised with himself, but even the stubborn child knew how to use basic common sense.

"Good, well the training will take seven years minimum and that's if you can keep up. It has taken me 20 years to train to barely an Elder." The monk was completely unsurprised as he had just mind raped the kid in front of him, although granted only looking at the vital life defining moments.

"SEVEN YEARS, ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING! Think what the Templars could do in seven years!" Seven years what was this guy on, that was far too long.

"Soup?" The elf offered again, "Oh and those runes on the torri, they're not just for decoration. When activated some of them hold the ability to slow time down, so seven years would pass for only one year in your precious real Templar killing time. However the fact is that your body would age here seven years older but when you returned to the outside world you would be able to switch between ages both when you finish this at eight years old and when you are actually fourteen."

"What?! That's not possible that completely undermines any amount of magical power, it's not possible? Time itself cannot be controlled by any magic! No measly runes can change that!" Rogue's mind was reeling, he didn't know much about magic but time was a constant.

"You still have much to learn boy, this is no ordinary temple. Me and my long dead brothers worked to keep the world clean from the monsters and demons that want to destroy jt, things that lurk beneath the surface. Those same demons actually is why I'm the last one left, that and our tool the runes you saw on the torri can only be taught by a monk to one student .. ever."

"What's so amazing about the runes then?"

"The runes are a language known as 'sacred Japanese' which is really the only name that it has outside of it naming itself in its own tongue. It's a language of immense power taught since the universe began and was rumoured to be that the first entities alive spoke, not even our earthly god's or celestials know the language. It's an enigma to every living entity in the universe and we were gifted the language at our founding to protect the world from its threats. You can stare at the symbols for days and all it will do is drive you insane, it destroys cameras or and other tricks people have tried to use to capture the true shape of it. To learn it a monk must pass on the knowledge to a student privately and will only be able to teach one student it ever, we do not lose the ability to speak or we merely share it."

"Gods, an all powerful language, a universe?!" What Rogue asked shocked, this was some crazy shit. "Why was our planet gifted this language if there is a whole universe to consider?"

"Because we are the centre of the universe. Earth may not be in the middle of the universe or the most advanced planet but we are the core of it. Such as when you find a queen bee in a beehive it is vital to the survival of the hive yet is not the oldest or most hidden bee. Us having magic when other planets don't is proof enough, others don't have god's, a very literal hell that luckily humans don't go to, a proper afterlife or any form of magic. It's is why we haven't been conquered yet by another galactic empire. If the earth dies then the entire universe will slowly fall to plague and fire, even through out the multiverse we are the core dimension and the core of existence. Despite not being the oldest or most central planet."

(AN: I HATE SCI-FI PERSONALLY SO DONT WORRY IM NOT ABOUT TO GET INVOLVED IN TIME TRAVEL, DIMENSION TRAVELING OR GOD FORBID ALL THAT SPACE BULLSHIT. MAGIC FOR LIFE.)

"H-how did you gain the knowledge?" the poor kid managed this was all too deep for someone who had thought that levitation was an amazing feat.

"It was originally gifted by the first created before their disappearance to a group of humans in Africa before even the stone age, the power made them beautiful and able to create objects beyond reasoning objects today known as objects of Eden." Rogue's eyes lit up at the mention of the objects he had heard reference to and smiling the elf continued.

"Those men and women became known as the Isu a race believed by the Assassins and Templars as scientifically advanced when it was actually magically advanced. (AN: TOLD YOU I HATED SCI-FI) They built fortresses all over the world but eventually destroyed one another through jealousy and hatred. Absolute power corrupts absolutely after all, luckily for the world a lone Isu who's name had been long lost but now simply goes as Minerva used a massively complex piece of magic and tied her own soul to the world's very core. Giving her unimaginable power yet cursing her to a painful existence. She did this just as the Isu said the words of power of 'death' -literally the words death and destruction in sacred- (aiming to kill one another) and erased all the other Isu's souls (the few casters included) from existence. In a final act Minerva gifted a few early humans with the tongue and exhausted from teaching more than one student the language faded even with her immense power. She has not been heard from since."

"No one should have that power, no one should be able to kill a man or a level a city with words." The very power that purely words had scared the novice far more than he would ever admit.

"Indeed," the Elf's voice was seeped in a new tired tone that told everyone in the room just what they all thought about such unmitigated power. "Sacred is powerful but it is hard to use it to directly attack, wards are it's main uses or enchanting. Of course the wards in Sacred are beyond imagination, before the Isu at the very start of life on this planet the elder 'Gods' visited this planet once they decided it was to be the centre and with Sacred created 'sanctuaries' pockets of ecosystems and places that are protected from all outside contact."

"All contact? Even with technology?" scepticism once again came to the forefront of his mind.

"They are undetectable to anyone except speakers, although certain breeds of animals can move between boundaries undetected by trackers or cameras. Much like a technological notice me not charms. Disease cannot be spread through the boundaries, they even have their own atmospheric quality and a planetary scale earthquake would not have the slightest affect."

"Incredible so not so much wards but complete separation? What lives there?"

"Aye, a complete division. Animals and beasts of all sorts roam, there are lands of dragons, the glacial steps of North America held timelessly and entire patches of ocean no one monk has seen them all. The animals that they hold are vast and varying, however none are truly at humanoid and not very advanced at all, most creatures are simply animals. The elders created the sanctuaries to make sure that humans do not harm the planet beyond repair so adding humans or a similar species would be counter productive."

"No more Elves, Dwarves, True Gnomes, Orcs, Vampires, Goblins or the like then?" Said Rogue withholding his disappointment, he had hoped the legends of those various races still bring plentiful had been true.

The Elf smiled at the childish disappointment, "Oh they still exist, in this realm they hide from humans in their 'hidden' (using special wards of specific races) communities. A power called the mist allows them to exist without humans looking to much into them (different from the mist of Percy Jackson but pretty much the same, think of a 'natural' intense scepticism) and so they live in the edges of humanity. Usually distrustful of humans but I assure you plentiful. Sadly he same can be said for monsters, creatures that require a bit more slaying than the Greek variety not to mention more dangerous."

"The monsters and creatures you handle?"

"Not quite, but they are dangerous. Take werewolves for example we do not bother with the wizarding ones they are usually pretty easily handled by the wizarding communities, Lycon and his band of immortal ass lickers are usually killed by demigods and rarely attack mortals. So no intervention there. But it's the true werewolves we occasionally handle, twice the size of Lycon himself and so much harder to kill, they too stick to the outskirts of humanity. This 'brand' of monsters, spirits and cursed souls is usually what we deal with, well the really powerful ones at least."

"What about the others?" Rogue queried, why would the monks of so called good intentions and protection not fight all the monsters they could. This conversation was opening up more questions and was getting pretty tiresome.

Sensing the impatience and also tired of the information he had to continuously dispense, and he would tell the child over following years anyway. "There used to be a group of monster slayers known as Witchers. A group of people that drank a special potion and went through various trials to increase their monster hunting abilities, they were almost monster bounty hunters and kept the monster populous down."

"Past tense?"

"They started to due out centuries ago as people began to fear the 'mutants' more than the monsters they hunted. The monsters population never decreased as it was spread if anything without Witchers it increased. Even to this day they run rampantly through these lands, hidden only by humans staunch scepticism and a bit of the creatures own incredibly weak magical signature that wipes them from all photos or recording equipment."

"Handy for escaping notice them," Rogue observed eyebrows raised, "of course without photographic proof no one will ever believe they exist, alot like Assassins I suppose."

"Indeed we are not Witchers but we have tried our best to take up their cause. We even have integrated a few of their trials to keep us string but many of us failed those trials so it is by request only. But now is not time for such a conversation, rise I have something to show you before we begin."

Rogue rose with Mas on his shoulder. "Let's go then. See the sights."

"Yes, there is something you need to see." The Elf said mysteriously, whilst he was standing he for the first time drawing attention to the two long katana like swords on his back. They were crossed over his back and one black as night and the other pale as daybreak, what set them apart from other katana was the fact that they not only had a cross guard but also a pommel of a dark redo gem stone of some sort.

Through the partial sheath (must not rust, Rogue thought to himself) it was possible to make out the image of a identical dragon on both blades, only one was black against the pale blade and the other shone against the dark blade. The dragons were long and clearly some type of Asian species.

Rogue waited until they had slid aside a screen and stepped into the garden once more, feeling the cool mountain air and the thrum of power that permeated the very molecules around them. After taking a deep breath of crisp air Rogue turned to the monk once more, "Your swords ... I know a little about blades and no katana has a hilt or pommel, and they are not usually that much shorter, fifteen centimetres shorter than a normal katana if I am correct? So what are they?"

The elder pondered the question as they began to walk from the garden towards the opposite end of the courtyard from the entrance torri. "These swords are unlike any ever made the shorter hilt, pommel and cross guard allow greater holding security when dual wielding so the hand does not slip off the normal katana hilt when spinning or holding with one hand. The black and silver alloy that it consists of is a nice mix of celestial silver, stygian iron, celestial bronze and uru. With the healthy doses of sacred enchantments and rune clusters it is one of the finest weapons you will find. Double edged as well, due to of course it's ability to get sharper or duller from the owners intent, the duller of course for wielding like a normal sword."

"Where did such a blade come from?" the novice asked, tripping over a small rock as he glanced at the blades.

"An artefact rumoured to have been gifted by the elder god's, rumoured to have been dragons themselves you know. A true yin and Yang. But listening to the past will only get us so far, and that is your first lesson." He said this as he reached a small wooden, iron hinged door. As he lifted a weathered hand to open it Rogue interrupted him, "Wait Mr Elf guy, what do I call you?"

"Chōrō will do child, and now without further ado welcome," he began to open the door slowly revealing what lay beyond to Rogue, "to the graveyard."

And it was stunning.

Having never seen anything like it Rogue was speechless, this was sure one hell of a graveyard. The first main difference from the normal graveyards was how instead of gravestones there were thousands upon thousands of floating Chinese lanterns. Each chained to the ground as they swayed in the breeze, the light they gave off was warm and hearty the semi-steep rock face they clung off glowed gently. Each lantern itself had a different name written on them, no doubt representing the person stood-floated for. It was a huge expanse of lanterns no doubt and was nothing short of glorious.

"I will show you it at night" Chōrō said smiling sadly at the lanterns, "a view that could melt the coldest most isolated man's heart." And Rogue didn't doubt it for a second.

"They are not just 'headstones' know they are the souls of every dead monk ever since our order began at the beginning of the civilised world. And when I the final true monk dies all our souls will take flight and reach the underworld for judgement together." As the elf talked Rogue felt his jaw drop, this was literally a field of souls. Each a individual powerful magical warrior.

Evidently not done the elder continued, "You may not be a monk but I want you to see the cause you will be the last to uphold it is as old as time and vital."

Minutes of silence passed slowly as the two stood enjoying the gentle bob of the souls in the breeze ignoring the cold.

The silence was broken as a question that had been on Rogue's lips for a while was asked, "Which Assassin did you meet? And Will that experience be enough to help me fight as an Assassin?"

"Yes, yes boy more than enough experience on my part," the monk replied quickly before growing a small grin, "after all I should think Shao Jun visiting Japan gives me ample experience does it not?"

Rogue's jaw hit the ground for not the first or last time in the upcoming years of blood, sweat and sake.

"Now boy. Let's go find you some more weapons to properly utilise. Chop chop." The elder replied with a sharp teachers tone sneaking in. It would remain that way for a large portion of the upcoming years.

It was time to train.

There we go, hope you enjoyed. PLEASE REVIEW, and see you next chapter for some action and some grown up Rogue Auditore.

PLEASE REVIEW AND GOODNIGHT


	15. Chapter 15: Elixirs and Suprise

**Is this my longest chapter ever? Yes, yes it is. Enjoy everyone and tell me what you thought in a review.**

"And now to welcome our new batch of first years to Hogwarts, let the sorting commence!" Dumbledore commanded loudly as the little firsties began move into the hall, crowding together like sheep threatened by a particularly large wolf.

Minerva McGonagall moved forward after letting the sorting hat finish it's song and Dumbledore say a few words. In a crisp Scottish accent she called the names from the parchment in her hands.

"Abbot, Hannah!"

A small girl stepped up to the sorting hat which was lowered over her eyes, the hat's worn crinkles snapped into a grin as they touched. A far cry from the silent inanimate object set down on a stool once a year before it's annual song. A loud shout followed the connection, "HUFFLEPUFF" screamed the hat.

And that's how the next few minutes went, your run of the mill screaming hat deciding students houses and school friendships/rivalries based on not fully developed emotional fluctuating traits. All four of the long tables stretching across the hall were filled by a few more students each time being welcomed by vigorous applause. As the herd of twitchy first years slowly thinned McGonagall called the name every soul in the hall was waiting with apprehension to hear.

"Potter, Harry!"

No one moved, not a finger twitched. The most worrying lack of movement however was from the hoard of 11 year olds, most of whom were quite confused.

"Harry Potter please step forward!" McGonagall tried again frantically searching through the first years with her sharp eyes. No one moved from the group but her words had stirred the rest of the hall to life. Murmurs and speculation spread furiously across the tables and everyone has their eyes on the supposed location of the saviour of the wizarding world.

One particular student was a young redhead boy who was wondering where the hell Harry Potter was. He wasn't at king's Cross, even after all his mother's calling for the train's location or on the train itself. He was tasked with finding this boy but for the life of him didn't know what to do, he needed the money as well. A quidditch superstar needed a trusty broom to help him with all the amazing saves he could do, but for now outside of dream land Ronald Weasley simply rolled his eyes obnoxiously and set out to ignore the bucktoothed girl next to him chattering about useless bloody shit. Honestly who cared where food came from?

Outside of the little shit's personal wonderland the murmurs had almost passed into shouts of outrage. Not only that but as the transfiguration teacher tried again and again with increasing volume to call forth Harry Potter no one missed her turn and stare at Dumbledore imperiously, nostrils flaring.

Sensing danger said Dumbledore stood and tried to restore order, "Mr Potter, STEP FORWARD!" He declared not noticing people flinch away at his tone, inside he was in turmoil. Like a storm raging around a schooner his thoughts were swamped by a single notion, what if Harry Potter wasn't at Hogwarts? It would be bad, next level type shit.

A Slytherin Harry? Bad.

A dead Harry? Pretty bad but explainable and Voldemort could be killed, by him of course.

But an AWOL Harry? Without influence and careful political tuning à la Dumbledore? The kind of damage that could be caused was endless and would lay waste to all his perfectly laid plans. It did not help that he had no warning whatsoever of this issue, his monitoring charms were working well and with pleasing results whilst the boys movement around the outside world was minimal as in non existent and this was backed up by the squib's reports.

Things heated up for the old goat fucker as no one came forward to claim the Potter line, the firsties had began to fidget and the older years were now yelling about kidnappings and the abduction of the boy who lived. A half giant sat, dejectedly looking directly at Dumbledore with tears in his eyes, "I tried to tell you Sir, I really did. Not a Potter in sight." This of course went unnoticed by the entire hall but all it took was a sideways from a very lost Dumbledore to understand the issue, Harry Potter was missing. He had not got his letter, or he didn't care. Either way he had never met Rubius Hagrid at the station or the alley.

Which meant that there was no Harry Potter at the Dursley residence, or anywhere near that as matter of fact. He had escaped? What could've happened?

Seeing no other way out the confused and fuming headmaster stood and clapped his hands weakly, only barely getting control of his students. "I am sorry to say that it is apparent that it appears Mr Potter is not attending Hogwarts this year."

Chaos exploded from all around him and the colourfully clad OAP sighed mentally and clenched a fist under his lectern , the state of the hall represented what was going on in his head anyway.

The man had gone semi catatonic so managed to miss the Scottish Deputy Headmistress call order to the hall and how a few of the staff directed worried looks towards him. As the sorting continued quietly Dumbledore remained frozen in place with a large, warm grandfatherly smile of his face, trying to calm himself. When he got hold of that insufferable little shit he was going to have a few choice words and maybe a bludgeoner charm at his ankles and wrists, followed up by an obliviation spell of course.

Now however was the time to start prepping how he was going to handle the ministry and the whole British isles with the backlash of losing a damn child.

Harry Potter was going to be found.

Thousands of miles away, days later a newspaper was open on a rough wooden table scarred from years of heavy drinkers and some less than friendly clashes with pointy objects. An equally scarred fist rested on the newspaper a half empty bottle of rum which was clutched between deeply tanned, calloused fingers that each had various expensive looking rings in them. The exception was the missing ring finger on that hand that was removed completely from the base of the finger and the start of the palm.

Each if his forearms were wrapped in a kind of leather bracers studded on the topside with small silver spikes that were almost unnoticeable yet prominent enough to cause some damage. They no doubt hid some large scars if the state of his revealed upper biceps were any indication of how the rest of his body had fared. His upper arms were also deeply tanned and were left open to the elements until reaching the top of his shoulder where a white robe covered his chest.

The robe was long in Assassin style (think Ezio) with red inside lining that went down to his mid calf. This was met by two long leather boots that came up just past his knees, each had at least two knives hidden in them and a good few throwing knives along their brim.

Each side of the Assassin's waist was adorned with polished weapons, on one side was a storm grey khopesh with a fine leather handle. And on the other was a long simple silver two handed longsword covered in small clusters of runes.

On his back two katana like blades were crossed, the hilts coming just over the shoulder. Nestled between them was a large custom quiver that held countless numbers of arrows, it rested just slightly over the sheaths. Down towards the small of his back was two small knives only each about five inches long rested hidden horizontal yet parallel to one a other.

His chest however was the most high tech armed area on his whole body, hand guns strapped to his chest all angled down at about 45 degrees. Six in total all shiny and black as night. Around his waist was a sash belt that contained hundreds of bullets made of lead, silver and a nice array of celestial bronze and imperial gold. Throwing knives lined the outside of the red belt and a large Symbol of the Creed, made of gold on a silver diamond shape background.

All his clothes from the boots and trousers to his robe was made of hardened leather all specially treated to be light, flexible and nigh on bullet proof. But compared to the strength of some of the monsters in the depths of shadows around the world it was bare minimum equipment.

(Sorry bout that but ya know it helps with characterisation, most of it is like Ezio but the chest is like Connors that tapers off before the lower abdomen)

The body belonged to Rogue Auditore an Assassin, the last Assassin. Now at eighteen years old yet only eleven chronologically he sat in a small bar that was one of the many around the world to serve all species whilst hiding from the masses of humans. However the bar's small out of the way location in one of the valleys near Mt. Kenya made it a prime location for all sorts of travellers, merchants and some of the more shady surrounding individuals.

Those shady individuals were dotted through the bar, the last Assassin had made careful note of where and whom. At the bar a small party of Gnomes talked with the Halfling barkeep who was laughing jovially. A number of small heavily armoured dwarves, mercenaries by the looks of it sat in a stone booth to his left and two elven merchants who had obviously met in the road were talking avidly in front of the windows that provided light to the front of the room as it overlooked the Kenyan Sahara. Of course there was a human presence aside form the Assassin in the bar in the form of a Maasai warrior that was sat quietly at the bar drinking lightly, probably working as a guide for the mountains. It was often only through hereditary knowledge, community knowledge or chance encounters that led to knowing about the 'second world'. In his case the Maasai and other tribes along with various nomads knew of Goblins, Gnomes, Elves and the lesser seen but very volatile Orcs. Rogue actually had a nasty scar from some tribal Orcs that he has met a while ago, the whole thing had given him a cautionary second glance towards all Orcs and a hidden love of trolls.

(The Witcher ones not the Harry Potter ones, in general everything from the Witcher is referred to as the default. So Elves are not House-Elves and Gnomes and not garden Gnomes, ect...( Google for pictures if you need help picturing ))

The only two things similar the parties had with one another was that each wore a leather band with a single rune of their left shoulder. Devised by the vampire's of the east the patch is a rune that was designed to make the holder undetectable through thermal, photographic and satellite imaging. It was also alongside a strong notice me not charms to avoid humans noticing them. It was law to wear these patches as no tribe, kingdom or empire wanted to be discovered and ransacked by humans yet again. The most vile warlords of the world still insisted on the patches as human numbers have grown too high to fight effectively.

Many beings kept the patch on to display their law abiding nature but also had the rune tattooed on so it doesn't come off accidentally.

The second thing was how every party was doing was going out of their way to avoid the robed Assassin. Even with his hood down he cut a scary figure, with his scarred, ripped arms and a handsome face that was missing an eye under a black eye patch with a thin black leather cord around his head. An empty socket obviously left there by a long jagged scar stretching from the top right of his face about 3 inches from his eye right the way down through the socket and almost to his nose. The scar tissue was a dull red that stood out against bronzed Italian skin.

Even the dwarves were casting cautionary eyes towards the famed green eye, with him bar fights turned legendary fast and every kingdom was cautious of him. Even those who hired his monster hunting abilities which were admittedly incredibly good, some even going so far to call him the last Witcher for 600 years. It was hard enough keeping the Creed alive, being a stand in Witcher was mainly just to do something other than killing humans. And there was nothing better than a hunt.

Being literally hewn into the mountain made the stone walls, tables and even seating pretty cold despite the expert Gnomish 'craftsmanship' which was pretty great in all honesty but Rogue had seen bigger. Which was a large reason he was currently nursing a rather large bottle of rum and had a cigarette clenched between his lips, that and he was in love with the sweet golden Elixir. Kenway knew his stuff.

And talking of Elixir Rogue mused as he looked to the newspaper clenched in his right fully fingered hand. Along the stop was: BREAK IN AT GRINGOTTS. Obviously Tom got sick of waiting for the stone thought the Assassin, although Dumbledore managed to get it out quickly. Evidently the stupid old cock could do something he needed it done.

Mas had buggered off somewhere in the search of some female companionship, despite not being fertile, but didn't exactly let them know anyway so it was not a problem. So that left Rogue to enjoy his drink quietly and read the paper. Loving wallowing in someone else's - namely Dumbledore's – pubic humiliation and self pity. The articles had been exciting since the sorting, starting out with; Dumbledore lost the boy who lived, Dumbledore incompetent or senile, Harry Potter: What we know and let the lord not forget: Did Dumbledore feed Potter heir to Werewolves or House-Elves?

To be honest he didn't give a shit about magical Britain and had enough problems as it was without involving the largest cock up in magical history. For God's sake they haven't even leaned about lightbulbs yet, and the concept of Dumbledore being the most powerful wizard in the world was more than laughable, so no he wouldn't be going anywhere near there for a while.

Feeling his good mood rising Rogue lifted the bottle and parted his lips only to immediately stop and lower the bottle. For at that second the door opened and a bald dwarf walked in. It would not have been an issue as almost nothing was important as drinking rum of all things but the dwarf saw him in the shadows and moved forwards with obvious motive. Rogue rolled his eye and subtlety scanned the dwarf, a golden glow surrounded him with a hint of red which pretty much meant do not piss off.

Baldy was wearing what looked to be some camel skin robes and had a spear on his back. A compound bow lay on his hip but was, from an expert's point of view in shit condition.

As he moved heads turned to follow his progress and the whole bar was waiting in anticipation for this new main, unpredictable event. Rogue pretended not to notice the clearing of a throat as the dwarf stopped short I'm front of his booth. Instead deciding to finish his swig of rum and adjust his perfectly neatly arranged hidden blades on his arms.

After some seconds of fiddling the newcomer spoke clearly impatient, "Got a job for you." The semi growl rolled from his throat in English.

"Call me old fashioned but I'm a sucker for introductions or at least a hello?" Rogue replied letting his Italian accent slide out, whilst saying this he raised his head and met the eye of the dwarf.

As Green-Gold met beady black a reply came quickly and with an air of annoyance. "Thought your kind didn't small talk."

Everyone at the bar flinched and that and pretended to be doing something else.

"Care to expand on that .. sir" Everyone gulped, fingers sneaking to weapons.

"Witchers,"snarled the Dwarf, "Rumor has it you are one. Got the eyes, the skills, the swords and the medallion to prove it." As he said this he gestured to the wolf head around Rogue's neck, with red eyes and a snarling facade.

"A spoil of war," Rogue corrected him slowly, "And it's dead useful this medallion. But your are partially correct, I am no Witcher but I do the job. Now speak quickly dwarf." The casual dismissive tone had been replaced by a slow and methodical yet carefree one.

As he finished the sentence both Green and black met again but this time the pupil of the human's eye flashed into a diamond shape whilst retaining the green colour. Using his common sense the dwarf nodded quickly and stepped back a few inches. The pupil returned to normal seconds after and the ever present frown on the man's face lessened a fraction.

"I have a herd of Camels about two miles east in a small valley, but for every night for a fortnight I've lost one. Don't know how or when they just vanish overnight and when I could them there is one missing each morning. Find whatever is taking them and kill it, you'll be well paid."

Although it was not much to go on Rogue was bored anyway and a bit of action never hurt anyone, he could also do with the money. Spending his family's money on rum (which wasn't cheap) and cigarettes wasn't the best moral wise and the nearest bank was a while away, despite being able to get there instantly magic wasn't always his first thought and preferred not to use it. Signs were alright in his book though and were pretty useful in combat as well.

Nodding Rogue agreed, "Sunrise here tomorrow, I'll have it's head or don't pay up and I'll have yours."

With that he finished his rum in a long swig and rose, as he walked out the bar with everyone's eyes on him he turned and pulled up his hood, "Baldy is paying." He stated without looking at the bar keep, and kept his stride out into the wind. Fully aware of Baldy sat still in the bar wondering if he'll need directions and already fishing our the money to pay for the drinks.

He kept this stride up as he got onto the track and whistled loudly, a camel soon stomped into view and bowed it's head to let it's master skilfully leap up into its saddle. The two left with the sun still high in the sky.

Back at the bar the Dwarf was still sweating from his confrontation however unexpectedly brief it was. He had thought the legendary green eye would ask for more details about the disappearances but he instead just rambled of into the desert.

Hastily he paid the barkeep and sat down heavily on a stone stool at the table, a large tankard of Dwarven ale met his lips as he heard the other occupants of the room talk quietly. "Lucky bastard to be alive." One Dwarven mercenary whispered to another how nodded softly, "Musta been in a good mood." Came his companions reply. No one argued with that.

And Baldy couldn't help but agree, he felt the mans aura flare for a second and had no wish of experiencing it again. Why did he have to go to the one man he had just learnt was in the area instead of the local boys. Mutations or no that was one scary man.

The camel herder decided to stay near the bar that night after getting slightly drunk and a few games of Gwent with the Dwarven mercenaries and some gentle gossip about the kingdoms. Which were as usual in a hasty peace that tolerated one another, only united in avoiding humans and their issues.

For the most part Elves, Goblins, Gnomes, etc. Had isolated communities and places to live so it was largely a result of modern human misconceptions that other supernatural races lived among them. Just under half the world was actually untouched by humans, the pieces that the races had managed to hide and protect from humans. They were their own sanctuaries like those of legend, but other huge portions of those saved worlds were also uninhabitable, filled with dangerous creatures, too dangerous environments or inhabited by wild Goblins or even worse Orcs.

The Dwarves also talked about Orcs especially, how Dwarves hated orcs. Eight foot tall, green as grass and ugly as hell they were considered a bane on the earth and centuries of war had occurred between them and the other races. The only way some particularly exasperated Ents could find to end the war is find some stone giants (the Hobbit ones) to act as the gatekeepers in the mountains that separates the known world and the less than civilised world.

After that topic the rest of the conversation faded into slurred comments and lest tasteful exploits. The Life of a mercenary was clearly exciting.

At sunrise the light flooded into the bar and the inn's (which was located above the bar and owned by the same Halfling) residents came downstairs, among them was a certain anxious camel herder.

As the sun finished rising and the day had begun the occupants of the bar turned as the door was thrown open forcefully. Conversation stopped and a tall 6'5 figure walked in clad in white and more weapons than the Dwarven armoury in the high mountains. The most threating thing was not his hood casting a shadow over his face leaving only a frowning lower face, not even the clenched fists. No it was the huge reptilian head clenched in his hands by a thick rope.

The mercenaries recognised a large adult Forktail at once and bowed their heads in respect as he walked to the camel farmer, slammed the dripping head on the stone table next to his employer.

The local Dwarf's face contorted into obvious fear looking at the dull eyes of the beast, it's long tongue lolling out of it's deadly sharp teeth that could cut you from just looking at it.

"Comes with the price." An Italian accent growled from under a hood, gesturing at the head carelessly, "Take it as a trophy, I've stripped all the good shit out. A little personal reminder, don't piss me off. If you will."

"Take it and leave." The tremble came from the Dwarf's lips.

Rogue Auditore smirked. His day was starting well, despite the tricky bastard that he had just held in his fist. It had started out a basic job but this thing was faster than the usual Forktail, bigger as well. It had almost got him in the shoulder with that sharp tail but he just got a nasty graze instead, which still stung like an actual bodily puncture. But after years of shrugging off cuts, stab sounds, bullet holes, poisons and various bites this was nothing in comparison so he could just go on as usual.

Slowly he held up a calloused hand, equally slowly the Dwarf raised a fist and dropped a money pouch into the outstretched palm. From the weight and size of the pouch Rogue felt no need to check the coin, the camel vendor wouldn't dare.

Rogue's hand made its way to his belt sash and tucked the pouch in an expanded pocket of the red material. As he turned to leave the tension in the bar lowered dramatically behind him and the smirk never left the Assassin's face as he walked out of the mountain face onto an awaiting camel which was glad to be free of the extra monster weight. From the cloudless sky a cry sounded in the air and a huge golden eagle landed on the traveller's shoulder.

With a lash of the reigns the camel moved forwards calmly and the group began to gallop towards the sun...

Brisk Scottish air rose over a small jutting out slab of rock sheltering the large white-clad, hooded figure that crouched behind them. With his arms exposed to the cold a normal humans would have given in to the temperature already but an Assassin was no normal man.

The normality of the situation was further questioned when through the valley in the line of Rogue's sight a huge castle lit by torches and flame acted like an unavoidable beacon. Designed with gothic undertones and large towers there was no doubt that it was Gnome built, despite the magical worlds reputation within the other races communities.

Rogue looked to the castle and rose in one movement, he had no time to lose. As he set off at a run the wind hurled it's best shots at him that he could only take as the sun was completely set now and staying still would only be colder than moving.

Rocks and boulders under foot were quickly leapt over masterfully and small rock faces were climbed in a matter of seconds and carefully timed jumps. Rogue couldn't help but be impressed with the castle as he neared it, it truly was a masterpiece but with all his heart he couldn't find the longing to go there in a perfect world.

Sure it was beautiful and the idea of an isolated tower on a cold windy night as rain lashed at the window, whilst being walked by a small fire was more than appetising. But he would be in one location for months on end, not able to leave and go wherever he wanted and do what he felt like. That and the huge amount of teenage drama, romance and other childish pettiness he would have to endure would be staggering. So no Hogwarts however fantastical was at the end of the day a beautiful place filled with inbred little ponces and love sick teenagers, not to mention manipulative ultra conservative teachers.

Rogue Auditore had no intention of going to Hogwarts, however a rather serious problem faced him and he needed to fix it. He finished the evaluation of his thoughts on the castle as he met one of its huge walls made of old gargantuan blocks of stone.

Luckily being a castle all he had to do was find the arrow slits and windows and scale them with ease. The climb was as quick as it was uneventful and soon he was met with the third floor window he was looking for. Pulling back a fist he smashed his hand through the glass sending it flying in all directions, it was his position with his midriff level with the window that stopped him from being cut.

Being a castle window or was relatively small but the fit was okay and soon be found himself faced with an empty corridor and some flaring torches glowing happily painting the Assassin in warm colours, the affect was lost however as his blades glinted evilly in the 'complimentary' lighting. Quickly Rogue want back to the window and let a flash of gold into the hall before flicking his wrist at the glass and watching as it returned to place.

Eagle and man moved quickly but silently through the hall, with only about 400 people in the entire building it was basically always empty. You can get more people in a primary school Rogue thought mentally shaking his head at the cost of constant inbreeding and squibisation had on wizarding numbers. Not that he really actually cared but sometimes people should take their futures into their own hands.

Suddenly the Assassin whipped behind a suit of armour to avoid the fuzzy brown haired little girl that shot out of the door on his left, not knowing why she was on so much of a hurry but now knowing what he was looking for the minute she was out of sight Rogue rose again. This time slightly faster he picked up the pace, he couldn't let Voldemort escape with the stone, well that and he was doing this as a favour to his mutual allies the Flamels. Whom he owed for getting some top of the line silver.

He rushed into the third floor corridor, past the stone statutes and through the door on the other end. Hearing the beasts heavy breathing from a few corridors away Rogue had already prepared a powerful Aard sign which he hit the Cerberus with full force with knocking him back against the wall. Now unconscious the guard of the trap door was down and Rogue without stopping flung himself through and down.

With his advanced eye sight the devil's snare was no difficulty to identify and using Assassin reflexes he rolled onto the vines and ran quickly over them, not allowing them to grip him or even react. Hearing Mas above him hovering closely he pulled his khopesh from his side and slashed a gaping hole down into the next part of the 'trials'. All of this happened in seconds and the devil's snare only reacted as he jumped through the hole landing in a crouch.

Mas landed on his shoulder and he put his khopesh back in place, he moved forward swiftly again and was greeted by a room full of flying keys and some broomsticks. Not in the mood for such bull shit Rogue sent a powerful Aard blast from his hand yet again and knocked the door clean off the wall. The hinges had clearly been charmed unbreakable as to not force entry but the walls were not, so some of the stone had turned to dust to remove the door. Wizards Rogue decided were fucking idiots.

As the keys around the room turned on him he kept facing the door and waved his hand causing all the winged keys to fall to the ground, completely cleansed of all magic.

The next room was a bunch of destroyed giant chess pieces, every inch was covered in dust and in the middle of it all was a ginger boy spread-eagled dramatically on the chequered floor. It was clearly an act because his breathing was so rhythmic that he couldn't be unconsciousness and that position was beyond special. Why he was pretending Rogue couldn't be asked to figure out but it was probably some from of cowardice but he simply picked up a rather large bit of rubble from the no doubt dramatic chess game and threw it at the ginger twat's head.

In response Mas cried happily as the boy's body went limp. Walking over to fetch his rubble Rogue had to snort at the irony of it all. He recognised the boy as Ronald Weasley from all those years ago, hell he could remember the dick's breathing pattern from that particular meeting. Grabbing his rubble he kicked the ginger in the balls and continued over the chess board.

The whole point of the tasks was beyond the Auditore, these were so easy that it was obvious Dumbles was testing his new saviour. Through the next door there was a particularly dead troll that Rogue stepped over without any emotion, he could raise a glass to the other variety but this particular strand of troll type were just aggressive idiots. At least rock trolls and the others could speak some English, and they loved the taste of Elves which always lead to some interesting conversation.

Through yet another fucking door, thanks Dumbles, Rogue was greeted with a table with a two potion bottles empty on a table and a few full ones. Taking a peek at the riddle he snorted and would swear he heard Mas snort too, using his nose he found the nettle wine bottles and downed them, forgetting his hurry.

The next issue was the fire in the doorway that he had to get though, a fire freezing charm would work but deciding to send another finger to the esteemed academy he lifted his hand and blasted a hole though the wall next to the fire.

As he stepped though the sight that greeted him was nothing short of hilarious. A small pathetic looking kid was looking up at him in shock and a guy who was standing facing a mirror as a face in the back of his head was looking at the new hole and the emotionless white hooded figure in it.

What's worse is that they both looked so shocked and angry that it honestly looked like he had walked on an attempted molesting. Not to mention both were covered in dust from the explosion.

"Am I interrupting something gentlemen?" Rogue said in his best dry Italian accent, which was pretty much his default, "Have I come in during a special forced courting moment perhaps?"

What he could only assume was Tom looked beyond furious and had even started foaming at the mouth a little whilst the boy turned to him and spoke, and angry arrogant expression on his round face.

"What are you doing!? I was about to defe..." The arrogant first year was cut off by a large piece of rubble hitting him in the head knocking him unconscious.

Seeing his great foe knocked unconscious Tom or the other guy stepped forward threateningly only for Rogue to mock taking step back and pointing his hand towards Voldemort, "Stop. I'm warning you Tommy boy I've got my rape whistle." He said voice dripping with sarcastic fear.

Tom roared at the obvious insult and levelled his wand at the hooded man. "Now you die." He declared so angry he completely forgot his usual evil monologue.

"AVADA K-..."

This time it was not a rock that hit Tom but a throwing knife that had been flung directly from the hand of his opponent. It moved so fast it was invisible until it embedded itself in the back of the other man's neck, or right in Mouldie"s chin DIY neck.

Both possessor and possesse fell to the ground instantly dead, the body to no surprise of Rogue's disintegrated from Tom's face and out. Leaving even more dust covering the floor, this dust stirred slowly gaining speed until it formed into a black screaming skull that soared at Rogue faster than most humans could react against.

Mot missing a beat and with superhuman speed Rogue raised an arm and unleashed a massive Igni blast right into the skull which shrieked, recoiled and flew through the nearest intact wall.

Brushing the dust off his usually white robe that was now cream, the boy who lived waltzed down the rest of the steps and over the boy who he also now recognised as Neville Longbottom. Rogue wasn't really surprised by the change of saviour or his childhood companions new attitude, the quite ones usually had some of the largest ego's and Dumbledore just has to encourage that ego to shine. No doubt through subtle public hinting that Neville could of defeated Voldemort as well or some other shit.

As he faced the mirror of Erised be had no desire to look into the mirror so simply picked up his ever trusted chess brick and smashed the mirror without hesitation. Seven years bad luck he thought amused by the situation, does a magical mirror add more years? Anyway Rogue held out his hand and summoned the stone from the pocket dimension Dumbledore had kept it in, a clever miniature ward fidelus charm. But still crudely done as a strong enough summoning charm could rip it apart. Tom must be losing his shit.

Pocketing the stone was easy enough cause luckily any protective charms would of been negated by the crude fidelus. Not wanting to go back and avoid the teachers and Dumbledore which he could hear just coming through the devil's snare, Rogue rolled his fingers and a bright orange portal appeared from thin air. As it swirled and spat sparks the Potter let out a rare grin at what Dumbledore would feel seeing this whole mess.

Dumbles doesn't even know it was me ruining his week yet again, Rogue thought as he stepped into the portal. Mas flew in behind him and the entire orange break in space dissolved into non existence.

Minutes later Albus Percival Wulferic Brian Dumbledore would walk through the gaping hole in the chamber look at the scene around him, check Neville Longbottom and then his wand. All before getting a massive headache. Joyous.

**Holy shit. There we go, not a real fight scene but I want everyone to get that Rogue is out of Voldemort's league. And im not going to power up Voldemort alongside Harry like so many other fics. The real fights will come from the Greek side of things...**

**WHICH APPEAR NEXT CHAPTER!**

**Sorry but everyone was waiting for it, and hope you enjoy the little world im trying to create.**

**PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME EVERYTHING.**


	16. Chapter 16: Immortals

**I cant write pre written characters for my life. Its not good and the only person I can write is Rogue. So as this isnt centered around him the characters come off as a little dry. I apologize but this chapter is nessesary and jam packed with Odyssey throwbacks. (I dont like the game but it links in well with PJ)**

**_Chyllen: Having perfect memory would literally make him a child genius, imagine learning at a rate of a computer. You see it once and you've got it forever, so hopefully that explains the rationalisation of this story but there was some dry humor thers as well._**

**_Matt (guest): Yeah I loved Neville too but it was kinda needed, I do love an arrogant prick being fucked up though._**

**_SkylerHollow: (Shout out to this guy, my best reviewer) Yeah I mean honestly considering spells as a whole weapons would be pretty affective against wands. And Rogue and the Gods are going to have a complex relationship ..._**

**_jocoleman2017: This is your chappie mate._**

**_I REPLY_****_ TO REVIEWS NOW. PLEASE REVIEW, MAKE MY DAY._**

America was shit. That was the simplified and parent friendly way of expressing in the written form of how a certain golden eagle was feeling at the minute. The place was freezing, there was no one interesting to kill, chock full of what by this point seemed like hundreds of Templars and snatching up those delectable little dog rat things was not even allowed! (Not that he hadn't done just that)

And to top it all of he was currently having to fly through a thick hazy snowstorm that reminded him far too much of Fuji, too much. But ever since they had left Japan years ago Rogue had ventured into more than one sand/snow storm and even considered himself at home in them, it was admittedly quite fun to fly in them but still it made him ache.

Anyway time to focus on the task at wing.

Percy's arms felt like lead, every swing and parry felt like he was a steel drum that was being beaten the shit out of. Thorn had not slowed down in the slightest though and a manticore was no easy task to defeat. They had known it was a dangerous task bringing in two supposedly powerful demigods but a manticore? That was virtually unheard of even in the demigod world which was admittedly quite small with everyone dying at eighteen or nineteen.

Thalia was holding her own as usual with her scary ass shield and her buzzing spear whilst Annabeth was nowhere to be seen which was a good thing in Percy's books. Thorn winced and let out a fearsome roar as Thalia got a lucky jab into his abdomen as he was busy parrying a slash from Percy aimed at the massive stinger of his. Unluckily for the demigods this small victory made them both hesitate to see the damage done which gave Thorn a chance to smack Thalia in the chest and swing his massive dripping barbed tail directly at Percy's exposed chest.

Time slowed down as Annabeth became visible behind Thorn as her cap was blown off of her head as she looked towards Percy, her face was of shocked fear that had decimated her usual determined battle frown.

The daughter of Zeus turned towards him lifting her face from the snow, eyes wide at her cousin's impending fate.

Percy himself could feel the spittle from Thorns mouth and smell the sulphuric reek of his stinger strongly in his nostrils. That was the only thing he focused on in fact, the smell of rotten eggs and death which would soon come from the shadows to greet him.

The barb was centimeters from his chest when a ball of golden fury hurtled info the manticore's face. Whatever the ball was had very sharp claws Percy thought idly as the dripping death stick whipped away from him in a vain attempt to strike the third party asskicker. The creature had raked a massive cut across the monster's face and had managed to shred one of his eyes. Thorn roared again and this time it held none of that lovely monster personality, it was raw untamed animalistic rage that it held.

Barbs flew from every inch of the enraged creature, all directed of what Percy could barley make out to be a Golden eagle if his Zeus factfile was up to date. The eagle weaved between the barbs screeching what all the demigods could only guess were sarcastic comments and insults, not even a scratch was created by the barbs but they still kept coming. Again and again the bird weaved professionally through the danger before striking Thorn over and over again with sharp blade like claws.

In his anger the manticore took no notice when an impossibly loud hunting horn came from the forest. He was simply focused on his target which was now causing him to turn and face the sea away from the demigods. Thalia at the horn had cursed loudly and steadied herself from the entrance of the surprise arrival. Soon her hand has on Percy's arm as she moved away with him in tow.

Annabeth had unsurprisingly took the tactical advantage of the distraction and was now striking at Thorn's legs darting to and fro with agility Percy was surprised by. She had however forgot that her invisibility cap had been whisked into the dark abyss that was the sea and that was her undoing.

As the horn silenced beams of moonlight started to shoot from the forest, the demigods and monster had not really been paying attention so when a moon beam hit Thorn in the chest everyone whipped towards the source. More and more moon beams shot from the forest completely out of the shadows turning Thorn into a pincushion, as they hit him it soon became evident that they were less moon beams and more silver arrows that hit against and again.

Forgetting his obsession with the eagle Thorn's intelligence once again rose to the forefront of his mind. Cursing himself for his inner and slightly outer beast from getting out of it's securely locked down area in his mind he addressed the arrows and the woods. "The time is soon WE SHALL MEET AGAIN ARTEMIS!" He bellowed into the woods where war cries and the howl of wolves were building.

Turning fast towards the ocean his arm shot out at the visible Annabeth. She screamed in shock at the motion and soon she was pulled over by the manticore. Percy let out a cry and raced towards the cliff face with Thalia just behind him, looking out over the sea, his father's domain Percy had never felt so helpless.

His sea green eyes searched frantically for any sign of life, he was so consumed in his search he almost didn't notice the huge bird of prey land on his shoulder. When he did his mind clicked into an idea, he opened his mouth to ask the majestic creature to look for Annabeth but as sea green met pure gold the eagle shook its head and called woefully into the storm. Annabeth was gone.

High in the treeline a figure clad in white and red watched with a single green eye the group of immortals move towards the desperate half bloods. Whilst being slightly proud that even Artemis hadn't noticed he was there he was extremely pissed. The fucking girl got taken and whilst him stepping in would probably result in a dead manticore and having to deal with immortals he needed to question the bastard and demigods weren't very good at that more delicate line of work.

He would let Mas go back to half blood hill and hopefully they could find out why the mythological monster community was in such uproar and moving around like a bunch of headless migrating geese. But damn this was fucked up. And he now had to deal with Greeks and immortals. Fucking immortals. He took a swig of a bottle of rum at his side.

"Shit"

"That's not good enough!" Percy had enough, since the hunter twats showed up he had been exiled alongside Grover and Nico de Angelo now this Nightshade woman was telling him that no one could go after Annabeth.

"Calm down boy." Nightshade spat out angrily, "being a son of Poseidon and having that eagle on your shoulder doesn't make you better than any other male!" The word male was dripping with venom as though there was no higher insult.

"He's more tolerable than you," Thalia ground out ignoring the huge wolves that had stood at Percy's raised voice and her own sparking fingers, "Shut up for two minutes I've got a headache already you bitc-."

"Enough." The wolves sat instantly and the hunters bowed their heads towards the voice. The speaker to Percy looked like a young girl but her entire stance and look just screamed immortal.

"Artemis." Nightshade greeted, her head bowed lower than some of the other hunters.

Usually danger lead to not being courteous to god's especially Olympians so Thalia managed a bow and a "Lady Artemis" which Percy parroted with a slightly stiffer bow due to Annabeth just being kidnapped by a man eating monster. Artemis nodded formally towards Percy and looked at Thalia for a bit longer than she had graced Percy with eye contact. The longest look however was reserved for the eagle which stared back impassively until Artemis broke it off and gestured to Percy, Thalia and Nightshade to follow her. Her minute form lead them to her large tent which was lined with enough animal pelts to kill a PETA worker from a heart attack.

She took a seat by the fire and after taking prompts from Nightshade the demigods followed suit.

"Your brave maiden friend is gone son of Poseidon and daughter of Zeus," she told them plainly, inciting a cringe from Percy "She is gone and will not find her way back by any stretch of the imagination," another cringe 'however the manticore's words trouble me ... I believe there are monsters stirring across the west and I intend to find out the cause on a hunt without my faithful hunters. These words of a near meeting are too dangerous to let hang."

"But Lady Artemis!" Nightshade exclaimed loudly in surprise and indignation.

"Hush child." Artemis soothed, for the first time her face breaking into some type of smile. "This private hunt has been on the horizon for some time now and I will leave tomorrow at dawn but what has not been foreseen is this eagle coming to your aid."

It was clearly a question to the demigods who had been strangely quiet and subdued due to the familiar presence between the god and the hunter. Percy answered despite still bubbling from the dismissal of Annabeth's unknown condition.

"He saved my life," Percy said softly his mind recognising the true extent of the Eagle's aid for the first time since the adrenaline had died. "I'm not sure why but he literally swooped in and saved me."

Artemis nodded slowly.

"He's not quite like any eagle I've seen or recognise properly." Thalia added with a hint of confusion, "As daughter of Zeus I can sort of talk to them through emotional links but there's not any to open up to with him?"

This was a question directed at Artemis this time who hopefully as a fellow daughter of Zeus would understand where she was coming from, Percy had just stared at her dumbly as though surprised that she could do what he could to horses to a lesser extent with eagles. She rolled her eyes at her cousin mentally.

Artemis nodded and turned to her lieutenant, "Bring in Phoebe please Zoe." The huntress rose fluidly and moved towards the exit. As she disappeared out of the tent a few seconds of awkward silence descended over the group, Artemis stared impassively at the two ADHD demigods as they twitched and fiddled with their hands as their downcast eyes stared into the fire between them and the goddess.

Mas was getting bored quickly on this human's shoulder and wanted to fly already, he was dreaming of small family pets and flying above tree tops whilst looking about as relaxed as an eagle could.

Soon all attention was focused on a petite girl of evidently Greek descent who had her hair tied back in a braid that reached her shoulders. After curtseying to 'milady' she turned all her attention to the massive eagle and her eyes widened in slight surprise. Mas instantly noticed but purposefully slowly turned towards her not wanting to appear interested in the newcomer that looked at him though knowing eyes.

"Do you see the link Phoebe from many moons ago?" The young goddess asked gently to her other hunter.

"Ikaros..." the girl muttered absently, Mas in his surprise at the mention of another of his species and most likely ancestor tightened his grip on Poseidon's kid's arm causing him to wince noticeably. Everyone saw this and connected the dots that he recognised the name, of course they did. Cause easy and Assassins' Creed never did go in the same sentence did they.

Deciding to not mention the golden eagle's reaction the still confused Phoebe spoke again, "But they went extinct centuries ago? It's not possible?"

"Those who bore these hunters defied possible Phoebe as I'm sure you know, however those bearers are long gone. And so is what they stood for, I suspect for freedom has to be sought out nowadays." As Artemis said it she sound almost pained, she was the goddess of freedom after all.

Phoebe nodded sadly although the demigods could not figure out the reason and were frankly very confused at the whole conversation. Neither felt quite like asking but both were very curious.

"Do we know what his name is?" Percy questioned ruining the moment entirely, Phoebe looked annoyed at Percy but refrained from saying anything due to Artemis' calm presence.

"I do not know boy but I assure you that if he want you to know he will tell you." That same presence answered indifferently to the male in her direct vicinity, all eyes then turned to Mas who barked aggressively and looked away from prying eyes. "Strange behaviour for an eagle," Artemis continued evenly, "usually they favour children of Zeus but apparently not in this case."

Phoebe did not say it but she was reminded of the personable eagle she had know years ago, every demigod and hunter has always wanted an eagle but few if any gain such a companion. It was said it took a certain mind-set to bond with an eagle as a partner but it has never been never looked into. Though it was highly suspected to be due to the freedom of a soul and the wishes of the eagle itself. Even children of Zeus had a hard time

"I leave tomorrow at daybreak for my hunt, I shall arrange transport for the demigods and all of you. And Zoe, do try to talk to that young Di Angelo girl."

Everyone nodded and rose silently, the Hunter's deep in thought, the demigods completely lost and a slightly annoyed lion of the sky. The only thing that hadn't changed through the meeting was the aggressive atmosphere between the Zoe girl and Thalia.

Percy didn't sleep that night, whether it was being surrounded by men hating women or his best friend being missing and probably dead. Either way it sucked shit. He missed Annabeth more than he was willing to admit, recently his mind had been conflicted about just what she was to him but he might never have the chance to find out.

As Percy Jackson eased into restless slumber, he didn't know what would happen to Annabeth but he did know he would do his try his damnedest to find her. Between the furs of numerous legendary beasts Percy Jackson dipped into unconscious.

Nico was trembling, not with fear or rage mind you. No. Trembling with excitement; gods, monsters, demigods everything he had ever dreamed of was real. And he was in the middle of it all, stuck between an epic clash of good and evil – heros and monsters. It was amazing. His mind couldn't really contemplate the change but the basis of his life -Bianca- remained the same so to him nothing else mattered. Nico Di Angelo barely even registered dropping off into a peaceful sleep.

Meters away Thalia stayed awake. Her blue eyes bore into the tent above her, thinking just thinking. Her little sister was gone and there was nothing she could do, hell it was that eagle that had dropped Percy from being killed as well. The fates clearly just loved messing with demigods. It took her hours but she too drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Hunters rose unnaturally early in Percy's expert sleeping opinion. At dawn the camp was bustling and Percy was woken by the tent collapsing in on him as they packed up camp. They probably did it on purpose he thought as the men hating women moved around Artemis.

He was still wiping the goo from his eyes when a huge bang echoed though the clearing shockingly him into attention. A literally blinding sports car smashed into the ground and a tall surfer type for out and literally beamed at the younger smaller Artemis.

"ARTY!" He cried loudly, just by the look on Artemis' face Percy was surprised that this clearly immortal (they had a certain 'thrumm' about them) man wasn't vaporised or got a one way ticket to Tartarus. "Do not call me that brother or we will have ... Issues." 'Arty ' whispered dangerously.

The car, brother, 'Arty'. Oh shit, Percy thought, that must be Apollo.

As though reading his mind Apollo turned to him, "You must be old Crabbies kid Jackson." Percy didn't get to respond cause the god then turned to Thalia, "And you must be my little sis, Thals yeah?" He didn't stop beaming for a second and Percy felt himself relax against his will. And to his surprise instead of looking at the god with rage as she usually would at being called Thals Thalia had a very subtle blush creeping up her face, weird.

Percy was too busy staring obnoxiously at Thalia to really acknowledge that Apollo greeted the eagle on Percy's own shoulder and was greeted with a sharp trill that could be taken as angry, welcoming, cautious or excited. And he didn't notice sports car merging into a double decker London bus, inevitably his thoughts then turned to Annabeth as he thought about Thalia. This kept him in quiet contemplation (not something usual but it was just something about this guy's aura.) Until a scream came from the driver's seat of the bus.

His refocusing eyes were immediately drawn to Thalia who was busy desperately trying to pull the bus out if it's downward spiral. Her hands were clenched so tightly around the wheel her fingers were white and sparks randomly flew off her.

One hit Apollo (who was looking increasingly worried behind his forced smile.) and another hit the saviour eagle from yesterday who was looking incredibly bored somehow. Which pulled a stark contrast to the Hunters who looked like they were barely restraining themselves throwing up. (Much to Percy's glee, after all they had been pretty damn cold towards him.)

As they neared the ground Apollo had to wrestle the wheel from Thalia and steer them towards long Island. The breaths everyone was holding in didn't release until their feet were met by solid ground.

A bit embarrassed for himself and Thalia, Apollo waved the 'kids' goodbye and slammed the pedal to the metal of his now sports car-chariot of the sun and all things light. He didn't even warn the demigods and Hunters before his car burst into light and literally exploded from the clearing and over snow covered trees, melting it instantly.

For a few seconds no one could formulate a response to the sudden disappearance of Apollo (with only minor flirting) and the daughter of Zeus disliking heights of all things, so instead chose to stare incredulously until Thalia looked up at them. Blue eyes met everyone else's and suddenly the floor became more interesting than the woman, possibly due to the sparking of said daughter's fingertips.

Percy was shocked himself, a daughter of Zeus afraid of flying? Jesus what a crazy world. And if manticores stealing demigods became the norm a daughter of Zeus not liking heights would STILL be weird, it would be like him being afraid of the sea. Percy thought, just the concept boggled him although it didn't take much to confuse him anyway.

The thought of the twisted manticore made him away where he stood, and the hunters and demigods faded away around him. What would a beast like that do to Annabeth? Who would he take her to?

His blood ran cold as he unconsciously answered his own question.

_Luke_

**There its not amazing but once i add Rogue in im actually really excited and proud of my plot in the future.**

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	17. Chapter 17: Deserts

**Hey guys it's been ages and I'm sorry.****I hope you've all been well and all that aaaand I also hope you've all watched the Witcher on Netflix which does the series and game justice... finally Netflix.****I've been really busy lately with GCSE mocks coming up but another chapter should be out sooner than this one was. Enjoy and tell me what you liked.**

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Tydbox**:**

**Understood and I'll stop the AN boxes and segments unless someone asks. Thanks for the review much appreciated.**

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**As usual thank you for your insight and review, always enjoy reading them.**

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**Thanks really appreciate it, what would you like to see?**

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**So sorry that I didn't update sooner but please tell what you would like to see.**

**Everyone please review they're fun to read and help me as a writer.**

The last week had been terrible, a fucking disaster in Percy's expert questing experience.

It had started off badly and that's what started the feeling of foreboding off. Camp half-blood had been slaughtered in the capture the flag tournament between them and the hunters.

And it ended as most things with him and Thalia involved ended, with a massive fight. Then the old hag mummy from the attic had taken a stroll down to the woods and a quest had been delivered by her in possibly the most exhausting way possible. (Grover and Percy had to carry her back to the big house.) About finding the now captured Artemis, and then the hunters had gone ballistic and after virtually grabbing Grover and Thalia, (at Chiron's insistence) they we're gone before evening drew in.

The hunters that had left on the quest were the Nightshade girl (hated Percy), Phoebe (hated Percy and the eagle) and another girl that hated him but wasn't really a talker or an outstanding personality so her name was less than useful at the minute.

Determined to find Annabeth at whatever the cost and hoping the quest was a way to do that Percy had followed behind them on Blackjack. Mr D chose the opportune moment to make his life hell and appear trying to stop him before letting him go. (He wasn't really 100% on why though, but Mr D was quirky like that)

And long story short he has walked in on some scary arse skeletons being created to hunt the others down via planting dragon teeth, they caught his scent. He caught up with the others and the camp half-blood van was rammed of the road by A HUGE lion.

Which knocked Thalia and Grover unconscious from the collision. It was only thanks to a huge truck smashing into the brute and sending it on the express route to Tartarus that the rest of them were not lunch. So the now bleeding and bruised the group dragged themselves into the closest services station and collapsed as one.

"We need to move." Zoe said abruptly staring at the poor bastard wiping down his car with such hate and suspicion the guy would probably die. Percy did mentally wonder why she was being so aggressive to a man she had never met based on one unpleasant experience that happened literally ages ago. And how keeping a grudge that long wasn't just unhealthy it had clearly ingrained itself into her personality so that she actually relied on that hate subconsciously. Else her entire mind lose its structure and realised her life was just 2000 years of some next level hypocrisy and crudely structured sexism. That was then encouraged by everyone else around her also based on short and singular occasions. (For the most part)

Instead of speaking his mind, (that was Annabeth's job, as well as all this high-level thinking) Percy nodded and stood with a significant amount of difficulty. He was battered and bruised but they had a job to do, Thalia and Grover were out but they still had time to find a way to travel.

It took a few hours of scouting from the hunters to determine that there was a train station that luckily stood only a few miles from where they were. Fortune favours the bold after all. (Took it long enough)

By midnight they had dragged Grover and Thalia to the train yard which was falsely advertised as a station by the extra hunter who's name evaded Percy. The pain of lugging them there had taken all the wind from Percy's sails, he also had a sneaking suspicion that if the eagle had helped in the search of transport... Well they would of gotten to it a lot quicker.

But no the bird had remained sat on Percy's shoulder looking on almost contentedly as the hunters raced between various forms of transport. This sentiment was also shared by the hunters who looked as pissed as ever, just the anger was for once not directed at him. Only their pride stopped them from throttling the majestic creature who, was definitely messing with them this entire time as it had not helped at all. He (hoping the bird was a he) was more of an extravagant or expensive paper weight now, not all an eagle was cracked up to be.

Percy was confused about where the heroic drive had gone from the daring, life risking save it pulled off. And that it had obviously been replaced by laziness or complete indifference. It was even more confusing that Phoebe avoided the bird and would mutter that nothing ever good comes from an eagle bearer. Which then pissed Thalia off, making the whole bird relationship thing more complicated and stranger than ever.

Deciding to ignore all eagle related issues and questions for the minute (Why was it here, why had it followed Percy after he left camp, was it a spy? Ect..) Percy knelt beside Grover and flicked him in the nose, after only a brief cry of "Artemis' tin cans!" all life abandoned him and he fell back into slumbers embrace. Deciding to ignore exactly what the phrase was referring to. Percy tried again, this time after a long groaning bleat the satyr's eyes opened and he blinked a few times.

"Peeeeercthy," he slurred, "Wherhes th vaan?"

"About 3 miles that way." Percy replied pointing towards where they had come from, "Now be quiet we're waiting to catch a lift on a train west."

"Cooool" Grover collapsed back into a light sleep that would be easy to wake him from, with a but of help from 'tin cans'.

Instead of touching Thalia whilst she slept (way to die) Percy decided to leave it as late as possible until he had to wake her. That was a problem for future Percy. It was getting late so Zoe took charge and made everyone else sleep whilst she waited for a train to pass by so they could catch a lift.

For once Percy was happy to be bossed around -mainly because it reminded him of Annabeth (and he was really tired)- So he joined Thalia on the ground and slept beside her, his eyes sliding shut until he could barely make out Zoe's figure leant against an old coal carrier that had rusted so badly it looked like a massive date.

As it turns out trains are pretty common when your looking for one, so no one actually got much sleep. It had barely been two hours before a huge train had smashed through their peaceful sleep on the comfy slate chips.

Phoebe was the one on the train shift when she spotted it rumbling towards them quickly. Percy had actually seen too many trains apart from the subway, naturally this meant that the first thought as Phoebe kicked Percy in the shin to wake him up was; "Ow, FUCK!" and then "These types of trains actually exist?"

Which considering he was faced with the very personification of 'american cross country transport train' was a very rational. It looked like every movie in a train yard ever and was quite literally panting as it dragged itself towards them. Now in actuality there were quite a few trainyards in New York but Percy had never been the most observant person ever and this thing looked like a death-trap. Even the driver looked bored and Percy could tell from a good 50 meters away that he was not paying any attention to the track before him.

As quickly as possible everyone rose looking incredibly pissed off. Grover and Thalia looked more confused though, because of course they had no idea what was going on. But somehow with a little help from the three hunters screaming, "Get on the train!" they figured out what to do.

The train was getting nearer when everyone was ready to leap inside one of the open carriages. They all looked like they should be sealed but clearly the hinges had long rusted off and no one could be bothered to replace the now lost doors.

When the train got close enough everyone barrelled towards one open carriage. Zoe, Phoebe and the other one easily leaped up and Thalia joined them seconds later. The wind began to howl as the force of the train pushed it out as Percy jumped as high as he could.

Sadly that actually wasn't very high and he clipped his shin before roughly landing on cold metal. He barely got out a groan before hearing a shriek behind him. Apparently slate wasn't best on hooves and Grover had tripped on the sharp stone. In his struggle to get up Grover bleat loudly and scattered more stones around him.

Heaving himself up the goat began to scrabble, first it got him nowhere but as his attempts got more frantically started to move. Percy could only look back as Grover tried to cover more ground, screaming encouragement all the while. After a few scary seconds of bleating the tired Grover made a messy leap and landed roughly on top of Thalia who had been screaming with Percy.

Thalia sharply punched Grover off and the goat boy had gone red in the face, whilst massaging a site arm of course. The hunters looked on disapprovingly at the position the two were originally in and most likely the clumsy mounting by Percy seconds earlier. The two half-blood campers in the trailer had a very strong urge to beat the shit out of the high and mighty bitch squad. Demigods weren't as graceful as hunters and neither were satyrs, and there was nothing wrong with that.

And yes, demigods also had pretty messy quests, but so what? They got the job done... 57 percent of the time at least, that was the highest amount of successful quests since Hercules went on his repentance rampage. Therefore, the rate was something to be proud of, fuck the hunters.

Neither Thalia nor Percy decided to push the matter of the obnoxious, but also subtle looks down the hunter's noses that were aimed at them. Grover didn't even notice the looks and was just happy to be in the strangely barren carriage, instead of being left behind.

It was decided quickly that Percy, Phoebe, Zoe and Grover would sleep whilst Thalia (who had been unconscious) and the other Hunter would stay on watch. Although for what no one was particularly sure. Percy thought a watch on a moving train was pointless but he was overruled.

It had also been decided that since they were heading to San Francisco that they would remain on the train (which was heading west) as far as it was going to the California. The mini van had been knocked off the road by the lion in Kentucky and they were still well within Kentucky borders.

It was indeed a long journey and for the next couple days nothing eventful happened, the eagle had disappeared for about half a day before returning with a rather large dead deer. Which it had feasted on messily in front of everyone, much to Grover's immense distaste. He had actually started telling the bird to stop until he received a reply which was, 'the most disgusting use of language itself ever in existence'.

So he was essentially told to fuck off by a bird, which in actuality was saying back to him something along the lines of, "Fuck off you disgusting vegetarian goat, come near my deer and I'll go and hunt an entire family of goats and knot their intestines into your curly leg hair."

Which left Grover scarred and sitting on the other side of the carriage.

The train had stopped once during the trip and had dropped off large amounts of coal, they had plenty to eat and drink since they had managed to salvage quite a bit. The real shit of the journey was the actual shitting, which was as uncomfortable and terrifying as it sounds, (they went out of the door between the storage carriages and did their business between the two in the open, rushing air.) because the hunters had kicked up the mother of all fusses.

And the other nightmare of the journey was how boring rural farms and small towns were. Sure, it was magnificent to see the mountains in the far distance and miles of farmland, but after about five minutes that got boring and there was nothing else to do. And small talk with present company was impossible.

If Percy or even Thalia could have played or interacted with the eagle (the lack of a name had earned its name 'eagle') the journey might of gotten better but nothing, absolutely fucking nothing. The bird wouldn't cry at them it wouldn't even blink as it quietly observed them. It just sat, waited, ate and sat.

For the first time in years Percy would rather die than do anything else, ADHD and waiting was a bad mix and dangled the 'great outdoors' as something potentially interesting in from of him. He was losing his mind and Thalia was feeling the same way. Tensions built further when it became clear to the Hunters as well that they were losing it as Thalia started to give out electric shocks like sweets on Halloween and the water in their water bottles was beginning to churn like an unruly ocean.

The first significant change came in the journey when all the field and grassland slowly turned to sand, mountains became dunes and winding streams and rivers became dust. The somehow now roasting sun was ferocious during the midday height and the very metal carriage itself began to heat up unpleasantly, Grover's fur was becoming matted and damp with sweat.

Before everything got too hot to bear Thalia's leather jacket was gone as quickly as she could peel it off, the leather trousers were beyond help. Everyone else shed layers like a snake after that although Percy didn't dare remove any more than his hoody and shoes due to Nightshade's gaze.

Grover on the other hand completely stripped cause 'it's the way nature intended' or some other bullshit. But even then, he did have a shag carpet on his legs so slack would have to be cut.

The next morning and they were still deep in the desert but only this time Percy couldn't take it. He had been still for days, his entire body wanted to go full Gump and just sprint out that damned carriage door hole. He had to get out, he would rather be tortured by the worst Tartarus has to offer than sit still for one more damned hour.

At the crack of dawn his wish came true, a cry echoed from the distance. It was high pitched and feminine but clearly some form of animal, the noise instantly made the bird of prey eyes spring open. Fully alert in seconds it soared out the carriage just as Zoe's opened, the hunters all were instantly woken by the cry this time as it got nearer and louder.

Arrows were notched in bows before long as the maidens of Artemis knew what they would soon be facing. Phoebe kicked both demigods in the chest as they were curled on the floor whilst shaking Grover's shoulder with minimum respect for his sleep.

Unfortunately, Percy was a slow waker and not a morning person so when he looked up finally at the screaming and shrieks of some definitely not human creatures he was met by a battle.

Harpies, that what they were. Winged terrors that were larger than usual Harpy size were smashing into everything inside the carriage, including people. It was clearly a losing war as Phoebe's dagger wasn't swift enough to permanently turn the beasts to dust, whilst Thalia's wild slashing wasn't helping and neither was the countless volleys of arrows the other hunter and Zoe were releasing into monster flesh. There was just too many of them.

In fact, Grover's tactic of cowering in a corner and frantically playing a slightly magical version of California dreaming was probably doing more than the others. After a few minutes of Percy joining the slashing brigade (which made no progress except a few nasty scratches being added to an already large collection.) the group began to fully comprehend the situation.

The train was driving alongside a ledge that overlooked a vast desert, whilst the ledge was only about seven meters high and made of crumbling red rock it was clearly the right height for a Harpy nest – a Harpy nest that they had lured with their own scents and a bloody open carriage that left them exposed.

The war continued until a large screech ricochet across the sky and though the carriage. Past the cloud of Harpies that were swarming like moths, a huge particularly ugly monster soared down toward them.

The Queen Harpy as Percy would later know her as was huge, must of been about eight meters wingspan and that was being modest. It was also, like them, covered in deep scratches and looked very pissed.

Zoe, Thalia and Phoebe (the more intelligent of the group) linked these to the eagle who had clearly either lost the fight against the creature - that was at least four times it's size - or had given up and left. (The group did not know that the latter was true and the bird had left to help these pathetic humans in a more long term way.)

Turns out the Queen was more intelligent than the other harpies and used her huge size to barrel towards the carriage as fast as possible. Tucking her wings in expertly she managed to smash every Demigod, mythical beast and Hunter straight in the chest flinging them out the other side of the open carriage.

It was not a long drop down luckily from the train to the bottom of the ledge and only caused slight discomfort to everyone who landed on sand. For a few seconds nobody moved, they had been too surprised at the sudden movement of the Harpy to make any noise. They just lay and watch the train that was now rolling slowly into the distance, taking with it their only way West quickly; all their food, Percy's shoes, Thalia's favourite leather jacket and a group of very happy looking Harpies.

Thalia was the quickest up, "FUCK, that was my favourite leather jacket you Harpy bastards! I will hunt you down and melt your fucking beaks to make glue!" This screaming continued for a while because no one had the energy to stop her, only when electricity began to cackle did Percy stand and try to help.

"Thalia we need to get moving, we need to get west as quickly as we can." It was Zoe that got there before Percy in directing and he felt slightly put off by the power change but ignored it. He was here to save Annabeth not lead a quest. Nevertheless Percy shook it off and Thalia regained sanity, "We need to move now," Phoebe put in,"I would say we could follow the cliff we fell from, but there's a slight issue ..."

Everyone turned westwards, and there lurking over the horizon was a yellow sun baked mountain. A mountain that completely cut of any hope of following the completely vertical ledge.

The hunter continued, "Going back is not an option either, the ledge runs for miles behind us without any way back up."

Zoe nodded, "Right, we have the only choice of going slightly left around the mountain and hopefully we will find a way to continue west out of this desert."

Grover bleated mournfully, satyrs hated deserts and it was no secret. They called them caves but with less water, hotter and with nowhere to hide behind when monsters attacked. Demigods too usually avoided deserts for the prime reason that a good 99% of all quests that went into deserts completely failed and no one returned alive.

Even Zoe was a bit worried, as she despite her many hunts had only stepped into deserts a few times and never longer than a few nights. Despite all of these very strong senses of foreboding the party ventured out into the barren lands, they were going from the edge of the waterless land right to it's core without intending to.

And so they walked.

Percy was once again in hell. Only this time things were looking alot less promising. It was almost nightfall and they had already lost themselves, at first they were following the mini cliff, until slowly it had faded into the distance without any of them truly noticing. Their senses of direction and basic awareness of their surroundings had also faded along with the silhouette of a massive mountain.

They were completely lost already.

We and they may never know whether they lost their way, possibly due to nature magic; the lull of creatures unknown from deep within mountains of sand, dehydration or just the effect that heat has on the brain. However we do know that whatever it was managed to trick even Grover's sense of direction, much to his shame and embarrassment.

Sunset was magical. The group was dripping with sweat, every inch of their skin was soaked with precious liquids that they couldn't afford to lose. Even the Hunter's perfect skin was letting moisture though and they only lasted a few hours more than the demigods before mentally turning off as they walked. Sunburn was soon raking at their arms, shoulders and everywhere they had desperately yanked clothes off of. (Thalia's leather anything was gone first yet again. She now wore a thin blanket around her waist as a sun guard and preserving her dignity. The blanket was one that the hunters had used to keep the sun off on the train.)

Grover was the worst off, his legs were matted and his bare chest was heaving. Hooves and sand were arch enemies so every time they had to climb a sand dune he had to crawl up. Sand had ingrained itself into his hair and general body as a whole. He was slowly being absorbed by the desert. It was futile to try and give him shoes and everyone knew it, the sand would simply swallow them as they were unfastened. Percy was given socks to keep the burning sand from well burning.

So when the temperature finally lowered peace reigned across the party. They couldn't see anywhere else to sleep apart from on a sand dune, so that is where they chose to rest. Sleep came quickly for everyone that night, there was nothing to eat or drink or any materials to make a fire from the nights cold grip. So there is nothing much to tell about that night.

Nothing but that even though the cold desert night no one stirred and that their dreams were all of the same nature. Watching a sun graze across a sky only for the moon to only rise half way an then return the way it came. In this desert demigod dreams couldn't reach them, but if that was a good or bad omen no one was sure. Not that they would prioritize dreams over their wake up call in conversation.

In the morning they were woken by the third nameless Hunter crying out in confusion. Remembering the last morning all too well Percy shot awake his pen clutched in his hand, already shifting into a bronze sword. The others ross around him and all drew their weapons. (Grover his panpipes)

"There, there!" the girl cried pointing into the distance, "What.. what.." Percy fumbled out, just feeling the heat hit him like a hammer fresh from a forge. Exhaustion, thirst and hunger came soon after despite his uneasy but deep sleep.

Under furrowed brows and his hand to shade from the god damned sun, Percy made out what the girl was talking about. A small figure moved slowly across dunes, wearily as though it had been moving for years on a great journey.

The figure was a dull yellow colour but was too far away to properly distinguish a gender or even a basic height and age. The quest driven group too was still watching the movement cautiously, all their weapons drawn and ready for action. No one made a sound for a while and continued to watch.

Heat was beginning to get unbearable stood still on burning sand which is why Percy was going to go and recommend an investigation into the figure. He had almost broken the silence when the creature vanished, literally vanished.

One moment it was shuffling and the next it had vanished, dissolved into the sand. Everyone blinked. The disappearance was so sudden, the burrowing into the sand so swift, that there were no cries of shock. They just stood there.

Quickly however they shook themselves off, the sooner they were out of the desert the sooner they could relax. Moving quickly became the next priority and the quest wasn't going to slow down for them so they moved on.

Despite this everyone kept glancing behind them uncomfortably when they thought the others weren't looking. The event had reminded everyone of the unknown land they were currently treading.

After hours more of stumbling in the sun things began to feel wrong. Sand began moving and twirling around them gently and Grover had been neighing involuntarily at what he perceived to be a distant smell of something ungodly. Percy wished now more than ever that they still had an eagle companion to provide air support.

The Hunters, whilst uncomfortable and equally exhausted and thirsty were leading the way. Through the whole meander across the desert they had been in complete charge, they knew what they were doing after all... They were trained for the wilderness.

The first sign of danger was a huge plume of sand that shot up meters to the three hunters left. They were in a narrow gap between dunes so they were walking dead centre between the slopes, vulnerable to attacks from the side.

The plume was meters high but after the sand resided back down Percy was met by the most horrifying sight he had ever seen.

The figure they had seen before was clearly, from up close supposed to be a woman. As could be told from her dusty cracked bare breasts that hung to her knees, her body was short and plumb with a bulbous stomach and thin sickly legs. She... No it did not deserve any humanising factors .. it was about Phoebe's height but seemed miles taller.

Scaly, flaky golden skin that could best be described as pus oozing cornflakes covered in sand, covered every inch of its body. Its mouth was filled with red-yellow jagged teeth and it's eyes were sunken and dripping with thick sandy blood that was as black as night.

The beast howled and gnashed it's teeth at them before lunging at the nearest Hunter, the other girl that Percy had not learned her name.

It was so sudden that everyone was in shock, what was this thing? Was it a monster? Why didn't it act like their monsters? Why did it look so... Their usual monsters were terrible but they never attacked so viciously or like such wild animals. They preferred monologue or a grand gesture, this was animalistic. This was a true monster.

That was the last thing that flashed in Percy's mind as red clouded his vision, warm red. The thing had lunged and raked it's claws across the Hunter's stomach, blood spurted everywhere. She cried out as everyone shifted into battle mode but it was too late, it's claws came back for a second time and tore through her throat and windpipe killing her instantly.

Her body dropped with a dull thump and silence followed after it. Everyone person and thing had been painted red by the ambushed. Zoe and Phoebe had their sister's blood dripping from their mouths and eyes, they were so shell shocked that it was instinct that helped them both loose two arrows at the crone, which had greedily licked the warm juice off her lips and began to move forward.

The celestial silver arrows hit their mark but left no damage behind on her throat. It looked like an attempt at striking leather with a spoon, Grover belated frantically before collapsing in a dead faint. Not from cowardice but from the smell.

The crone stank of sweat, blood and rotting flesh but for Grover's nose that was not the worst. No, it was the reek from the Hunter's exposed stomach and intestines, the fact that he himself recognised the smell of the small meal that they had shared on the train. Monsters were one thing but for any satyr, death and this was too much.

Percy and Thalia had stumbled back at first and had still it fully recovered. Again, the beast lunged this time at Zoe who was barely in a fighting stance. The only reason that the demigods did not again get drenched in Hunter blood was for the blaze of fire that warmed their faces further than the sun already had.

Fire, the thing clearly hated it. At the blast she stumbled back and hissed at the new opponent. And to their amazement they saw the eagle again, perched on top of their saviour's shoulder. Both looked majestic in the sun, framed against a blue sky. The eagle was spreading its wings threateningly and the man dressed in a white robe with the hood up and covered in weapons was levelling a shiny silver sword towards his foe.

Both lunged and time slowed. The eagle leaped and scratched deeply against the things eyes before fully taking flight. The man swiftly dodging a slash that came at him so fast he must have had cat like reflexes, many times faster than even a Hunter's speed. His sword reacted gracefully and slashed at her abdomen, creating a large deep mark that seeped black blood almost instantly.

He slashed even as crouch spinning under her arm to create maximum momentum before brutally thrusting his sword deep into her scabby back. The whole movement was so swift and graceful it would of been hard to fully comprehend without seeing the marks he had made.

Though unholy power the thing kept moving, slashing behind it angrily whilst whipping around. Foaming at the mouth this time and with a gorge that had been cut straight thought it's back and left breast from behind it looked feral.

Choosing to roll and get a shot at the legs the man swiped at the back of it's knees, showing again incredible fluidity and grace. His robe flowed around him creating the image of a bloody hurricane that flashed with silver metal and black blood.

Once it had fallen to it's knees involuntarily it's head was removed by one swift strike and sent quite a distance due to the force behind it.

The dead monster left a legacy of a mutilated girl who's guts were baking in the sun, a shocked adventure party (What was that thing? Why didn't it explode into golden dust? JESUS IS SHE ALIVE? WHAT THE FUCK?!), an unknown man who looked anything but friendly with a hood and a moving white weapons rack was strained with monster blood and a previously lost eagle that had returned with an owner.

They were lost. They were scared. They were disgusted. They were horrified.

They violently threw up all over each other in front of the stranger.

**Hope everyone enjoyed, watch the Witcher on Netflix and please review**, **follow and favourite for more**.


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